Four plus One
by Bella'sExecutioner
Summary: Six years after losing her, Tobias finds himself walking through life as if he too has died. He's lost, broken, and drawn to the darkness of his past. What he finds in the shadows will change everything. For better, or for worse, he can't say for sure. Rated M for violence and adult content. Crossover with Vampire Academy. Birthday present for my dear friend JM Darhower.
1. Chapter 1: Stiff

**A/N: This is a birthday present for my good friend and writing buddy, JM Darhower. You are truly an inspiration, endless fountain of support, and one of my best friends. I hope this year is filled with great things and fun times. Thank you for being the best book pusher there is and introducing me to both Four and Dimka. **

**This fic was written as a gift and is not beta'd so my apologies for any errors that you might find while reading. This story is in Tobias' point of view and it takes place in the Divergent world after Allegiant ends, so if you haven't read all of Allegiant and don't want spoilers don't read any further.**

**I have no ownership of the original works that these characters and locations are from. This story, however, is mine. **

"Oh, Terrified of the dark, but not if you go with me  
And I won't need a pill to make me numb  
And I wrote the book on runnin',  
But that chapter of my life will soon be done

I'm the king of the great escape  
You're not gonna watch me checking out of this place  
You're not gonna lose me  
'Cause the passion and pain  
Are gonna keep us alive someday."

(The Great Escape, P!nk)

**Chapter One: Stiff**

Stiff.

My muscles are stiff from intermittent exercise.

My lungs are stiff from cold, relentless air.

My clothes are stiff from too much starch.

Stiff. Rigor mortis.

Is existence considered life so long as the body is living? Most days I can ignore it. Most days I just keep moving, pushing through the aches and pains.

But some days I'm just stiff.

The world turns into a haze of whites and grays with winter months. White snow covers the ground. Gray clouds fill the sky. The night is still black and the sunrise blends reds and yellows into a golden orange promise that maybe today won't be a day that I feel stiff.

I kick a rock as I walk, too tired to fight the soreness in my muscles and run. Why bother? Where would I be running to?

_Stop this_, she says in my mind. _You're stronger than this. You can't give up already._

She always had more faith in me than I did. She saw a different person underneath my skin. Maybe I was that guy. Maybe I still am that guy. But he's trapped under too many starched layers of skin now to break free.

"Tobias," a voice calls ahead of me.

My neck creaks as I raise it to see who is calling my name. Zeke. Damn.

I pull my lips into a friendly grin, even though my cheeks protest. "You're early."

"Hello to you too, Sunshine," Zeke says with an easy smile.

It's easy for Zeke. He's never been stiff. He's been hurt. He's known agony. But he's never been stiff.

"I thought you were going on vacation? Weren't you guys going on a trip to some place exotic or something?"

Zeke laughs. I envy the way his lungs fill with air so effortlessly. "Oh yeah, we drove to the paradise that is Milwaukee." He sighs with so much exaggerated flare that I roll my eyes. "It was tough to pry ourselves away from that little piece of Heaven on Earth, but we somehow found the strength—"

"Your sacrifice is commendable. I'm sure people are writing songs about you right now."

Another laugh, another smile. "Well even if I did only get to see the oversized garbage compactor that is Milwaukee I get the feeling my week was a thousand times more fun than yours."

His eyebrows rise as if to pull out a pen and write down the story of my life. My shoulders move up and down, reminding me that my lower back is little more than a tight bundle of nerves now. "My week was…normal."

"Boring."

"Satisfactory."

"Man, I nearly fell asleep just hearing you describe it."

I roll my eyes again and my head is already aching from the overdone movement. "We can't all live such a thrilling life as you do."

Zeke watches me then and my eyes search the immediate surroundings like wounded animals looking for a place to lay low and die. It's only then that I realize I've wandered a bit out of my way. I'm closer to his side of town. Closer to the place I once called home too.

How did I get here?

"Tell you what I'm going to do for you, Four," he says as he slaps a hand to my shoulder. _Four._ No one calls me that anymore. No one remembers that version of me anymore. He doesn't use it all the time, but every now and then he slips. "I'm going to take you out to dinner."

"You're not really my type."

He laughs, slinging an arm over my shoulders and forcing me to follow him to whatever plan he has concocted.

"Well dinner will be at a bar and we'll mostly be drinking more than eating." He waggles his brows. "How I'm looking now?"

I shove my hands in my pockets, begrudgingly admitting this plan didn't sound half bad. "I'll give you a test run but if you want a second date you'll have to really impress me tonight."

He takes me to a place that has little more than a guy with a long table and bottles of just about every alcohol ever invented. A few smaller tables are squished in the back. Only a handful of chairs are scattered through the room.

Zeke plops down on the first open barstool and greets the man behind the counter. He knows everyone, never forgets a face or a name. My brain is exhausted from the idea of storing so much knowledge. People are passing, fleeting parts of life. Only those who crawled into my head and wrote their names on my brain were kept in my memory.

_Is that what I did?_ she asks.

_No_, I tell her. _You cracked open my chest and planted yourself inside my heart. _

The organ beats a little slower these days. Maybe a symptom of loneliness, more likely a result of lack of cardio.

"Harry, I need you to set us up with a couple of shots to start with and then a never-ending supply of beer until you feel confident enough that you can kick us out."

Harry finds Zeke's zeal amusing. I find it grating. I don't want to get that drunk. And yet part of me never wants to be sober again.

Two shots of something I don't bother asking the name of are placed in front of me. Zeke throws his two shots back in rapid fire, hollering like a man who's just been stabbed after each. I toss my first one back, hissing as my nostrils burn and my throat stings. The liquid hits my stomach like a hot rock in an ice bath. I'm downing my second shot before I can fully appreciate the first. Then I'm gulping down half of my first beer with the hopes it can cool the burn from the hard liquor.

The greatest gift alcohol gives me is relaxation. Sober I am stiff. Drunk I am loose. My shoulders slouch. My head dips. My lips slip up more. My lungs can breathe deeper. My vision blurs, but my eyes don't want to run away anymore. I can look Zeke in the eye. I can face the world.

I really don't do this enough.

I swallow the last few drops from the bottle in my hand and knock two others over as I put it down. How many have I had?

"That sounds like torture," I say, scratching the back of my neck. Zeke has been enlightening me on the joys of fatherhood.

A year before, he and his wife Shauna adopted a three year old girl from a relocation camp outside of the city. The camps house people with no homes, no families, and what the government believes will be no futures. Zeke met his daughter on one of his scouting trips to the camp and has been a hopelessly devoted daddy ever since.

"It is, man," Zeke says, holding his bottle inches from his lips as he shakes his head. "If I could step into the chamber today I _know_, without a doubt, that tea parties with stuffed animals and pedicures would be two of my worst fears."

I laugh. Me. Laugh. My lungs don't constrict and the sound is not forced.

"What the hell are you laughing at?"

I take a swig from my fresh beer and nearly choke as I laugh again. "I'm just imaging you wearing a bonnet. I'm pretty sure that would be my fifth fear."

"Not funny, Four. Not funny." His lips twitch, contradicting his words.

I marvel at the way the drink in my hand makes it okay for me to hear about fear landscapes, to hear my old name, and to not feel like my chest is about to explode. I even let my mind wander back to that time. Back to when this sort of thing, me and Zeke getting so shitfaced we can barely see straight, was called Saturday night.

_You never had to get drunk with me._

I see her then. She's huddled at the back of the initiate group, folding in on herself from uncertainty. She's timid and shy, but there's something in her face, in her eyes. Something that tells me the second I get in that face, the minute I enrage the spark in those eyes, she'll lose that insecurity. She'll wake up.

The downside to alcohol is that it's a depressant. For those already living under a thin sheet of compressed emotional baggage it doesn't help to add another sheet on top. It's gasoline on an already blazing inferno.

I don't feel stiff. I do feel sad.

"Don't do that," Zeke says, pointing mouth of his bottle at me like a sixth finger.

"Don't do what?"

"And don't do _that_," he says with groan. "You are violating the code of bar night."

"There's a code to bar night?"

I honestly can't believe either of us is sober enough to follow this conversation at this point. From the look on Harry's face we might not be.

"Yes," Zeke says. "Bar night is about relaxing and forgetting the shit that…keeps you from relaxing." Yeah, we probably passed the ability to have an intellectual conversation a few beers ago. "And you are going all unrelaxy right now."

"I don't think that's a word."

"Whatever," he says, waving his arms in the air. "One or more of you has to agree with me that you should check the sads at the door."

"One or more of me?"

He closes one eye and then switches to close the other. "Yeah…when did you multiple into six people anyway?"

"I think we're good," I say to Harry and he nods.

"No…nope…we're not good. My boy is looking like he's about to jump into the chasm. We need something. More beer. Hot girls. Chocolate cake."

My stomach feels ready to vomit at the mention of more beer and women, but it growls at the thought of cake. I shake my head. "We're good. How much do we owe you?"

Harry waves me off. "He's got a tab, don't worry about it."

Zeke blows Harry a kiss and staggers off his stool. "Whoa," he says, catching himself on my shoulder to steady his legs. "I think they did something to gravity since we sat down."

I sigh, stabilizing myself on the end of the bar as I stand. "How long has it been since you got drunk?"

Zeke leans into me as we shuffle our way towards the door. "Um…when was the last time we got drunk together?"

I laugh. "I'm pretty sure we were both dressed in black and I was overseeing the simulations of initiates."

"Then…then," he says, emphasizing the word with a punch to the air.

I wish that was the last time I got drunk. Shame mingles with the sadness and I hope he doesn't ask if that was my last time too. I'm sure he would understand. Zeke always understands. It's what makes him Zeke.

"You remember that song that was playing that first time we got drunk?"

What was it about alcohol that deadened every brain cell but the deepest, darkest, most forgotten memories? Sadly, I did remember it.

Zeke doesn't wait for my reply. He starts belting out the chorus, off key and singing every other word wrong. By the time we reach the door I am convinced that singing along with him is a good idea. We stagger on to the sidewalk, breaking apart to dance to the music that only we can hear. I don't know how long we stand there, singing and dancing and making total jackasses of ourselves.

Zeke slaps my chest and nods to the side of the building. A couple is embraced, a man leaning against the wall while his girlfriend is sucking on his neck.

"Unbelievable," I say, feeling my face flush as I turn away.

Zeke snorts. "Stiff."

I'm too damn mellow to take offense to his jab, too far gone to even realize what he's called me. I shove his shoulder, angling him back toward the corner. He lives two blocks north of here. If we lean against each other and keep moving forward eventually we'll make it there.

I hope.


	2. Chapter 2: Drained

**Chapter 2: Drained**

Zeke lives in a modest, two-bedroom apartment. A few dirty dishes can always be found in his kitchen sink. Toys are usually scattered all over his living room floor. And Shauna assures me a full load of laundry is rarely not found in their dryer. It's an inviting space, but a far cry from the strict order I live by. Zeke calls it comfortable havoc.

I call it chaos.

I awake feeling like death. The song Zeke and I sang all the way home last night is still playing in my head, the baseline is thumping against my forehead.

No, I realize that's not inside my head, but outside. I peek one eye open, a pair of big brown eyes and a smile greet me.

Mina. Zeke's daughter.

She doesn't talk much, some sort of traumatic mute disorder left over from her time in the camp. She does smile, probably more than her father. Almost as much as her uncle used to.

Every inch of me aches as I sit up. I prop my elbows on my knees and head in my hands. Mina squeezes herself between my legs. She's just tall enough to stand under my hands. I look at her through the cracks between my fingers. She's still smiling, still silent.

I don't get over here as much as I should. I haven't seen her more than a handful of times since Zeke adopted her, but my privacy doesn't feel the least bit invaded by this curious kid. I know exactly how it feels to be silenced by fears. I think she senses that about me.

"Mini Mi," Zeke shouts, entering the room with a herd of buffalo apparently, "leave Uncle Toby alone. He needs some rest and an aspirin.

I reach out blindly with one hand, hoping he is there to give me said aspirin. I offer her a weak, blood-shot eyed smile. Mina beams like the sun and toddles off to find her mom.

"Uncle Toby?" I repeat, snatching the glass of water from Zeke's other hand.

He laughs. "Well what should she call you? Foursee? Tobe? Tour? Fobias?"

I start to shake my head and then remember the drum beat in my skull. "She can call me Tobias."

"_Just_ Tobias?"

There is an edge to his voice, one that warns I left something very important off of my title.

"Yeah?"

"You saying you're too good to be my kid's uncle?"

The water feels like dust and the aspirin is a thousand tiny knives all stabbing at the inside of my dry throat as I swallow. It's not just the hangover. It's the thought of who Mina's real uncle is and why he's never going to be here for her to give a nickname to.

"I don't think I've earned that," I admit, placing the glass on the coffee table as he takes a seat next to me on the couch.

It's such a simply designed apartment but he and Shauna have really done wonders to make it a home.

Zeke reclines back, stretching his long legs out in front of him and props an arm on the seat behind me. "I told you, a long time ago, that I forgave you for that."

"I know."

I appreciate his forgiveness. God, I would have died a hundred times over in the past six years without this repaired friendship with Zeke. I can't ever tell him how much that means to me. But that doesn't erase what I did. It doesn't bring his little brother back. And whether he wants to blame me or not, I will never forgive myself.

"Well," I say, shoving off the couch and stretching. Damn, I'm stiff. "I should be going."

His eyes say don't go, stay, Shauna will make breakfast, and Mina has new drawings she wants to show you, and we can laugh and talk and act like it's old times again.

But I shake my head and he nods, glancing at some spot in the distance.

That's Zeke, understanding till the end.

"Four," he says as I open the front door. He's called me that a few times since last night. The continued sound of it unravels something in my gut. "Don't be a stranger, man. Our door is always open. Literally, the midget can reach the lock now so we have to keep an eye on it all of the time."

I laugh. It's not as easy as it was last night with all the booze in me, but it's easier than it will be once I'm alone again.

Zeke waves a salute and I leave.

The winter air slaps me in the face. I didn't wear the proper coat yesterday when I wandered away from my side of the city. I work my way back to the bar, remembering a bus stop at the curb.

I see the lights flashing and yellow tape blowing in the breeze about a block away from the place. I slow and then stop at the corner, unsure whether I should cross or find another bus stop.

I see Harry leaning up against the front door, talking to an officer. He's shaking his head, face as pale as the snow on the ground.

I decide to cross and wait for the bus. My curiosity burns like a rash and I need to scratch it. The cop takes down some notes and pats Harry on the shoulder. I casually stand at the curb, glancing back at the wall over my shoulder. A team of investigators and medics crowd the space, but between them I see a body. A man sits on the ground, eyes vacant and hands limp in his lap. His mouth hangs open and he's propped against the wall. I recognize him. It was dark and I was buzzed but that's the guy who was standing there making out with his girlfriend last night.

Harry must notice me because he's standing next to me in a second, wringing his hands. "Glad to see you alive, kid," he says. "Zeke…he made it home okay too, right?"

Harry shifts his weight, eyes scanning the immediate space around him. Paranoia and fear practically ooze from his pores. I haven't been so close to such unguarded fear in six years.

I nod once. "We made it to his place just fine." I motion with my thumb. "What's going on?"

His eyes dart to the corner and back, hands wringing harder together. "Something…bit him, drained his blood." Harry's voice is low, like he thinks whispering what happened might make it less scary.

Hemophobia was not one of my fears, but it was a common fear among most initiates. Exsanguination, bleeding until one is dry. It was an irrational fear, one that could only be conquered by the acceptance that the body is a tool and all tools have limitations. Most initiates got over their fear of blood within the first level of training. Once you broke a few noses and gained a few scrapes blood was pretty normal and not so much scary.

I look from Harry's white-knuckled hands to his shifting eyes and the sweat beading on his forehead.

"Do they have any theories about what did it?"

I didn't see a pool of blood on the ground. Judging by the guy's height and weight if he bled _that_ much it would have ran all the way to the street. But what would bite a man and drink every last drop of his blood? What _could_ do that?

Harry shook his head. "I have a theory but…it's stupid. Something so stupid and old that…"

Each time Harry says the word "stupid" my head pounds. The sun is rising higher in the sky and I squint. "What is it?"

"Vampires."

He says the word so softly that a car driving by swallows it before I can really hear it.

"What did you say?"

"Vampires," he says again, this time, leaning closer and speaking louder.

I have no clue what he's talking about. The word sounds vaguely familiar but I can't place the exact reason why. "What is that?"

He sighs, wiping his hands on his pants. "Eons ago…long before all the wars and the factions and the wars that built the factions…long before society broke down they had…simple monsters. Stories about things that couldn't possibly be real, but people believed in them."

I want to laugh. People back in old times had to invent things to be afraid of? Did they not know hunger or pain, did they not know what it was like watching the person they love die without any way to save them?

Vampires. Monsters.

Humanity is monstrous enough when given the opportunity.

I glance at the man's body as they force him into a large black bag. "I don't think some mythological being stepped out of a book and killed that man, Harry."

"But you don't understand," Harry says, stepping closer to me. He's a desperate man and I'm somehow his rope that's keeping him from falling off the cliff. I let him cling. Only for this moment. "Vampires drink the blood of humans. They bite people and drink their blood. They only come out at night…"

When you spend as many years as I did around fears you understand one simple truth—anything can be scary. Some people are afraid of bugs. Some are afraid of suffocating. Some fear being noticed, while others are terrified of being forgotten. Some can't be touched and others just want to feel. The mind has millions of wrinkles and no one can say how the ones for fear are formed. I can teach you how to control your actions in the face of your fears, but I can't tell you how to unlearn them.

I don't know why Harry puts so much faith into such an old story, but I can tell the man is terrified that it is true.

"Harry," I say, thankful when I hear the whine of the uptown bus breaks. "I wouldn't worry too much about it. Vampires are like dinosaurs. So extinct no one even knows what they are anymore."

Harry nods, putting on a brave face. He walks gingerly around the crime scene and into his bar. I climb on to the bus when it stops and settle into a seat near the back. I have a thirty minute ride back to my part of the city. I stare at the bar and all the chaos surrounding it as we pull away. My head is still throbbing. The thoughts Harry's suspicions put in my head don't help to sooth the ache.

Vampires. Creatures that stalked the night and drank the blood of humans. Sounds like scientists and doctors to me.


	3. Chapter 3: Flash

**Chapter 3: Flash**

My eyes search the streets, everything growing far too familiar as we get closer to my old territory. I'm just about to turn away, just about to focus my eyes on the floor of the bus when I see it—a bright flash of light at the base of the control building. Something has exploded in the glass room above the Pit in Dauntless headquarters.

I'm on my feet, pulling the emergency break and apologizing again and again to the bus driver as I exit the bus. I'm running, my lungs burning and legs tightening up.

So stiff.

It was probably nothing, I tell myself. You are just seeing things. You want an excuse to torture yourself since it's been so long since you stepped foot in this place.

All very valid warnings, ones I should pay attention to.

I kick against a locked door until I bend the handle and break in. I take a deep breath, steeling myself. It's been six years and though I know it's been maintained as a recreational facility for the rehabilitated Factioners I don't know what to expect when I walk inside. It's broad daylight and I saw a flash as clearly as if it were night. Whatever went off in there is brighter than the sun. I brace myself for fire, for an attack.

The room is relatively empty. All machines shut down and lights turned off. The only light comes from the windows that circle the space. It looks so familiar and yet so foreign. Someone has added desks and computers, garbage cans and display boards.

I see nothing out of the ordinary on the ground floor so I move to the center of the room. A four-foot high concrete wall has been installed all along the edge of the slope that leads down into the Pit. Something about the sight of that makes me want to kick it. If people needed to be protected like that, they shouldn't be walking into Dauntless headquarters to begin with.

I peer over the wall, looking down into the abyss. I can hear the water rushing in the chasm, but I can't see anything. The distance down is too far. I decide that's where the light had to have come from. I have to venture back down to solve this mystery.

Each step feels heavier than the last. My legs are stiff. My shoulders are tight. Every so often I glance up. The sun is nearing the center of the sky. I've lost all track of what time of day it is, or even what day of the week it is. I reach the main level of the Pit in a longer amount of time than it used to take me. I see the cave where Tori's tattoo shop was, the dining hall, the hallway to the initiates barracks. It's all just like it once was. And it's all nothing like it used to be.

The lights are off down here, but I'm not afraid of the dark. The sunlight that beams down through the tunnel to the surface is light enough to guide me. I take a passage few know about that leads to the heart of the river.

This is about the time I know I've lost my mind. Johanna was probably right. I should have considered seeing that shrink she told me about. I don't trust doctors. I don't fear them, but I don't trust them either.

I'm careful where to put my feet as I negotiate the wet rocks at the base of the chasm. Funny, when I glance up I have no problem seeing the sky from here. The bottom of this hole was too dark to see from up top, but the light of day can't be ignored. I don't know what I expect to find. A shooting star that fell from the sky and could grant me a wish? Now I sound almost as crazy as Harry and his vampires.

My eyes are drawn to one rock in particular and I can see her. I can see the way the afternoon sun plays on her blonde hair, see the way she marveled at the power of the raging water, and I can see how soft her lips were the first time I kissed them.

I'm officially insane.

The rock moves and I freeze. It groans and I hold my breath. It rolls over and I jump back.

I reach for the knife I keep tucked in my boot. Johanna hates that I insist on wearing it, hates that I feel the need to own a weapon at all, but she allows it without complaint. I don't want to fight anything anymore. I don't have the stomach for it. But that doesn't mean I won't defend myself against an attack.

Instinctually I bend low, using a small grouping of rocks to blend into. I still wear mostly black clothes and this feels like my natural habitat as I fade into the shadow. As it moves again I see it's not a rock, but a man. Not a man. A hulk. He staggers to his feet, a long dark coat swishing around his legs. I can't make out his features but I see that he has long hair that's tied behind his head. He rubs a brutish size hand to his eyes and I shudder. I'm out of practice, out of shape, and the only thing that used to give me advantage over fighting the big guys was my speed. I fall further back into the darkness, hoping like hell hiding can be a new advantage.

The guy has hearing like a bat. His eyes snap straight to me. His vision is inhuman, as is his speed. Before I have the chance to register that he's moved, his fist is around my throat and he's lifting me off the ground. Never, in all my years of training fighters in this very building have I ever witnessed someone move that fast.

My nails scrape at his hand and my boots kick whatever part of him they can. He doesn't drop me; he doesn't even seem to be bothered by my struggles. He draws me down to his eye level.

"Where am I?"

His voice is heavy, low and thick with some kind of accent covering his words. I've never heard anything like it. His hand squeezes tighter around my throat and I feel shame flash through me. Not since my childhood, hiding under my bed from Marcus, have I felt this weak.

"Where?" he insists.

I shake my head as best I can. I'm no idiot. If this guy…this _thing_ doesn't know where he is then I'm not supplying him with the information. He's no friend to this city if he's not even aware of which city it is.

He's close enough now, my eyes adjusting to the little bit of light that makes it to the bottom of the chasm, that I can see his face. A scar runs through the right side of his forehead, through his eyelid and down to his chin. It's not from a blade, the groove is too deep and too imperfect for that. It's almost like…like a small fingernail was dragged through his skin. His eye is surprisingly undamaged.

"I'll ask one more time," he says and I notice the more he speaks the thicker the accent coating his words grows. "Where am I?"

I don't know how I summon up the strength, but I land a hard jab to his ear and it's enough that he releases his hold on my neck. The second my feet hit the floor I run. I scramble back through the caves and up to the landing. I sprint up the slope, my lungs already constricting, my legs already complaining.

So goddamn stiff.

I push through it, climbing slowly. All the while the sound of two strong booted feet stomping echoes a short distance behind me. He's gaining ground faster than I am and soon I feel that iron grip on my shoulder. He hurls me through the air like I'm knife and not a man. My head connects with the concrete floor of the upper level.

His scar is the last thing I see before I pass out.


	4. Chapter 4: Threat

**Chapter 4: Threat**

Zeke can't stop laughing. I'm sitting in a blue plastic chair with a pack of ice against my head and his laugh is rubbing my last nerve raw.

He, Shauna, and Mina came to collect me from the Rec Hall. (That's what they call Dauntless Headquarters now, the Rec Hall.) Apparently someone found me passed out in the main lobby and brought me to the infirmary. They knew to call Zeke to come collect me.

"How much did we drink again last night?" Zeke teases.

"I'm not drunk."

"Not _now_," he says, sitting in the chair next to me. "But that's because you got the beer slapped out of you with the floor."

Whoever found me claims I came rushing into the space from somewhere he didn't see and just collapsed. I was making a scene and in hysterics. I don't want to tell Zeke what really happened, but I do anyway. I'm not some alcoholic nightmare like my father. I don't break from reality and seek to harm people.

"Didn't you see the crime scene at Harry's?" I ask.

Zeke shakes his head. "Nope. Harry's was locked up tight when we drove past. No police, no yellow tape, and no Harry. And, man, if some huge weirdo with cape and a scar came strutting through here people would have seen. The place is always open. You know that."

He tells me that the lights are never shut off. The doors are never locked. The city had decided two years ago to convert the building into a safe haven for Factioners. Many were able to easily fuse into society when the walls came down and the outside world rushed in. But some, like me, started experiencing withdrawals of sorts a few years back. They invented pills, classes, hypnotherapy, and all sorts of other bullshit to cure us, but none of it worked. So they renovated this building to house elements of the old factions. It's a place where we can come and…be our old selves.

I've never visited since the reopening. I haven't been back to here since before she died. I don't know what drew me back this morning.

Well, I do, but no one believes me.

"Oh and by the way I think you owe me a second date," Zeke says with a self-satisfied smirk.

"How do you figure that?"

"You said I had to impress you and I got you to come home with me without even asking. I say that earns me an automatic second date."

"Is there something you two want to tell me?" Shauna says, keeping her face so straight that I know exactly why she's the perfect woman for Zeke.

"Shauna, baby," Zeke says. "Remember when I told you there was someone before you…someone I never had the guts to try to date—"

I groan and put the ice pack over my eyes.

They both laugh.

Something pokes my leg and I look down. Mina is stretching from where she sits on her mother's lap and touching the toe of her shoe to my knee. She pulls her foot back when she notices I've removed the ice pack from my eyes. She nestles into her mother's embrace. She doesn't like being around so many people, or being out of the house at all. I can relate.

Shauna angles her wheelchair so they sit closer to me and whispers something to Mina. She smiles and nods and Shauna nods towards me. Mina climbs from her lap to mine without any warning. I'm helpless to do anything but catch her. She's content, facing out at the world with her little legs swinging in front of mine.

I look over at Zeke and there's this mushy, shiny look in his eyes that makes me roll mine.

"So, walk me through it again," Zeke says and I don't know if I want to punch him or throw up.

"I walked up to Harry's to catch the bus. The guy we saw making out with his girlfriend last night was dead."

"Drained of blood?"

"Yeah. Harry told me some insanity about monsters and then I got on the bus."

"Where you saw an explosion?"

"Not…no…more like just a flash. Like a million pictures were taken all at once."

"And that came from here?"

The more I recall it, the stupider I feel. "Yeah, so I jumped off the bus, broke in—"

"Doorknob is perfectly fine on that door, by the way," he interrupts.

I continue like I didn't hear him. "I walked down into the chasm and—"

"Found a moving rock that turned into a guy."

Did he really have to simplify everything to make me feel that much more ridiculous? "He wasn't just a guy. He was…he was…"

"Careful, Four," Zeke says, pointing a finger at me. "You're only allowed to have one man crush and it better always be me."

I plop the bag of ice on top of my head and lean back against the wall. "I don't have a crush on him. But he was strong. Strongest guy I've ever seen. And fast. So damn fast."

"You used to be fast."

"I used to be a lot of things."

Zeke stares at me for a second. "Shauna, baby, you mind taking Mini Mi and doing something for a bit? Gotta talk man stuff."

She says sure and picks Mina up off my lap. They roll off into another room where a big group of kids climb on a jungle gym. I can feel tension in the air that I force into my lungs.

"Man stuff?" I say, tossing the ice pack on the chair next to me.

Zeke is quiet. Zeke's never quiet. Zeke even talks in his sleep.

He stares down at his hands that he's all the sudden wringing, reminding me of Harry. "How long, man?"

I'm at a loss for understanding. "How long what?"

He can't look at me, can't take a full breath. Is it just my imagination or is Zeke suddenly tense?

"How long have you been using it?"

Out of the millions and millions of words that I can assign to the title of "it" I don't know which to supply. "What have I been using?"

He glances towards the center of the room, to the yawning abyss that they've tried to cover with that dumb wall. "You've been going down there, haven't you? That's why you were wandering around the neighborhood yesterday. That's why you're seeing things that aren't real. You're using the sims again, aren't you?"

Definition dawns in my brain and I feel like it's a knife cutting my spinal cord. He thinks I've been running through simulations. That I've been facing my fears again.

"I swear to you," I say, having no viable way to defend what I say is true. "I haven't stepped foot in this place since Tr…since the Liberation."

I hate that word. I wasn't liberated when the walls came down. I was caged. I know nothing of freedom now.

Zeke isn't convinced. He twirls the ring he wears on his left ring-finger. His wedding ring.

I ignore the stab of jealousy I feel in my gut.

"It sounds an awful lot like you are, Four. You know that, right? You're afraid of shit you can't even see. You're afraid of a building and street signs. You're terrified to even say her name."

My jaw tightens so hard I'm surprised my teeth don't shatter. How dare he dictate what I fear? He might be my best friend. He might know everything thing about me. But he doesn't live inside my mind. He doesn't know what the grooves in my brain that define my terror.

"I'm not looking to start a fight," he says, putting distance between us as he stands. "I just…I see you fading away, man. You don't see it, but I do. You're worse than you ever were on your worst day back in the Pit. And this…" He waves toward the lobby. "If this isn't a cry for help then what the hell is it? Just explain it to me. Please. I wanna help you. You're my brother—"

"No I'm not!"

The words erupt from me like furious, molten lava. I'm no longer shaky and stiff, now I'm solid and clear. I'm enraged. I jump up from my seat and feel the most like my old self that I have since the day that gray blur hit the net six years ago.

Zeke doesn't seem fazed. He plants his feet and raises his chin.

We might as well have on training outfits, standing on a sparring mat. We might as well strip the clothes that cover our tattoos.

"I am _not_ Uriah. He's dead, thanks to me. And thank you for brining that up every chance you get. I'm not feeling guilty enough about that kind of shit these days."

He doesn't apologize. He doesn't insist that I'm wrong. He just waits. Like he knows my fists are heat-seeking missiles and his face is the target.

His silence annoys me almost as much as his accusations do. My hands clench tighter and tighter into fists. The muscles in my forearms strain and flex.

"What's going on?"

Shauna's voice sounds distance and childlike to my ears.

Something touches my hand and I jerk away, glaring down at the nuisance with a snarl.

Mina's brown eyes grow as big as her face as she startles. She doesn't cry, or scream. She just collapses on the floor, shaking.

I feel my chest collapse along with her. My rage drains the second I realize what I've done. Who I've become.

Now Zeke reacts.

His hands grab my shirt and jerk me forward. His eyes are wild with fury. "You ever act like this around my kid again and I'll—"

"What?" I say. My voice is hollow, just like the rest of me. "You'll hit me? You'll kill me?" I want to say I'm sorry. I want to wrap my arms around Mina and let her feel safe again. But I'm not that Tobias right now. I'm Four. I'm the guy who ran to this building to escape an abusive father. And I'm not afraid of being hit. I'm not even afraid of dying.

I'm only afraid of being expected to be a nice, normal human being.

He lets me go and picks Mina up. He doesn't say anything as they leave.

I cover my face with my hands.

_What have you done now?_ she asks. I don't hear judgment in her voice, but I feel it in my bones.

"I can't do this," I whisper, not caring who hears me.

_You can do anything._

I shake my head. I am only a man, a very limited man. The world has an endless amount of things and I can only do so many. And this is not on my list.

"I need you."

_I'm gone._


	5. Chapter 5: Reality

**Chapter 5: Reality**

Johanna left me three messages during my detour into Dauntless territory over the past two days. I listen to the messages and delete them. I don't pick up the phone and call her. I don't do anything but strip out of my clothes and walk to the bathroom.

I need a shower.

I need a shrink.

I need a serum that can make me a better person.

_You don't need any of those but a shower. You do need a shower._

I want to smile, but she's not really the one saying these things. My mind likes to play tricks on me. And her voice is the biggest joke it knows.

Wouldn't Zeke love to know I just thought about using a serum? Wouldn't he just gloat and tease and badger me into admitting he knows every damn thing about my life?

I think about using serums a lot. I think about using them every single day. I used fear inducing serums for years. Of course I'm not going to just forget about what a good simulation can do for me. But I haven't used any since the last fear landscape. The one where I saw her die and couldn't save her. The one where I turned into my father.

I hold my hands out in front me. I almost hit her. I was so angry, so hurt, and I almost hit Mina.

It was only a matter of time, I suppose.

I've had to jump off buildings.

I've had to squeeze myself into the tightest spaces.

I couldn't keep her alive.

It was only a matter of time until this fear became real too.

I climb into the shower and don't even bother with the handle for cold water. I'm cold and achy and I need scalding hotness to peel away my skin. Why can't I rub it all away? Why can't I scrub hard enough to clean every last bit of him out?

I'm some damn broken machine that repeats the same motion over and over. It's weakness to hide in Marcus' shadow. Weakness to say my father was cruel and that's why I'm cruel too. I don't want to hurt people. I do nothing but hurt people.

I run the bar of soap over my body, scrubbing extra hard at the ink that wraps around my side. I can't wash away my past. The tattoos on my flesh are the greatest reminder of that. I am strong. I am cruel. I am Dauntless.

Or at least I pretended to be once.

The phone is ringing as I exit the bathroom, wearing only a towel around my hips.

"Tobias," Johanna's voice says from the answering machine on my nightstand. "Zeke called and told me what happened. Please, dear boy, please get in touch with me. I don't need you to come to work any time soon, but I am here to help you."

I hit the end button before she finishes her message. So many people closing in around me with the word "help" on their lips. Don't they know I'm afraid of suffocation?

_They care about you._

"They feel guilty about me," I say to an empty bedroom.

_Do you want to be left alone?_

"No," I say too quickly and the voice inside my head laughs. I do want the rest of the world to leave me alone, but I don't want her to leave me. I will never want her to leave me.

I turn on the broadcast screen in my living room and scrounge through my kitchen for something edible.

"The weather is going to continue to decline of the next several days. More snow is on the way."

I zone out during the weather forecast. I understand that some people need to know if the sun will shine tomorrow, but I prefer to rely on my eyes. When I wake up, I look out the window. If I'm not sure if there's a chill in the air, I open the window and test it. Simple as that.

I make a bowl of oatmeal and sit down at the kitchen table to eat. And I wonder, as I do every single time I sit here, why I own a kitchen table. I live alone. I will always live alone. All these chairs seem daunting.

The front door shakes as someone pounds against it. I have a spoonful of oatmeal almost to my lips when it happens and I drop it without tasting a bite. The person pounds again and I peek through the peephole.

Christina.

Damn.

"I know you're in there," she shouts.

I don't move a muscle.

"I can see the shadow of your shoes under the door."

I glance down. The door is flush with the floor. "No you can't."

"Ha," she shouts, hitting the door. "I _knew_ you were in there."

I lean a hand against the door and don't say a word.

"Come on, Four," she says. She always calls me Four. I don't think I've ever heard her call me anything but Four. "I didn't make the long trek to your neck of the woods for shits and giggles. You need a good ass-whoopin' and I hear Zeke backed down before he gave it to you."

I want to roll my eyes at the thought of her handing my ass to me and then I realize she's probably kept up her conditioning and she could take me.

"I don't want to talk to you."

She snorts loud enough that I can hear it through the door. "Didn't say I wanted to talk to you either. Now open the hell up. I have to pee."

I am half tempted to tell her to pee in the hall, but I know that won't make her leave. Christina is a pit bull. She has sharp teeth that sink straight through your skin and she doesn't let up till she's ready to be done.

I open the door, stepping back to let her in.

"Did he call you?" I ask, locking the door as she sits on my couch.

She shakes her head. "Nah. Shauna. She said she left the room and you two were talking about having crushes on each other and when she came back you were about to pop Zeke's head off."

Christina is the opposite of Zeke. I feel nothing but judgment from her. Her Candor background robs her of a civil filter and she fillets me to my bone every time we talk to each other.

Oddly enough that's what I appreciate about my conversations with her.

She never tells me what I want to hear.

I have no words for an explanation. My actions don't make sense to me. I don't know how to relate insanity to the sane. I return the kitchen, to my unnecessary furniture and to my bland lunch.

She doesn't stay at the couch but joins me at the table. I try to ignore her as I eat.

"That looks disgusting."

"It's delicious."

"You've lost weight."

"Just the muscle."

"Who are you right now, Four?"

I don't know how to answer that so I just keep eating.

"I've been doing good, thanks for asking," she says. "Doug and I are still together. Still happy…ish. He's kind of a weenie but most guys these days are."

"My hair's not long enough to braid," I point out, shifting my attention to the broadcast as local news begins.

She shoves me with a laugh. "I'm reserving the gory details for the girls."

"You have friends that are girls now?" I ask, turning my attention to her for a second.

She laughs again. "Well I do still meet up with Cara and Shauna from time to time."

I nod. Meeting up with people from time to time sounds exhausting.

"We made a promise to each other."

Suddenly my spoon is the most fascinating device in the world. The way it cuts through the thick goop I'm eating is highly riveting.

Christina's teeth poise over my flesh, ready to pierce with the right combination of words. She's going for my jugular. I might not make it through this one. "She would be so ashamed of you right now."

And there they are the bits of glass and spikes of iron that she loads into her shotgun and aims directly at my chest, the shrapnel that embedded in my heart with the explosion of my world and prevents me from ever healing.

"Well then it's a good thing she's dead, isn't it?"

Just like with Zeke at the Rec Hall my mind is saying one thing while my tongue lashes out with words I don't want to mean. I mean them. I feel them like roots in my skull and dirt in my veins, but I don't _want_ to mean them.

It's not a good thing that she died. It will never be a good thing that her light went out so quickly.

"If I didn't know a fight was what you were pushing for I'd kick the shit of you right now for saying that."

I would kick the shit out of myself for saying it if I could. I wish she would beat me up. Everything is murky like blood filled water when I'm at peace. When I'm angry, when I'm defensive is the only time that I feel clear.

I shove the bowl of oatmeal away and recount the events of the past twenty four hours. I feel as though I'm sitting in a true Candor interrogation. My words slip freely from my tongue as if a serum has loosened me up.

When I finish she sits back, blowing out a breath between puffed cheeks. "Wow."

Christina doesn't mince words. She's never want for sharp commentary on her tongue. I don't know what to make of her reaching the end of her vocabulary by reacting to my story. It can't be good. Of course it's not. I'm not good.

I'm crazy.

"You're not crazy," she says and rolls her eyes as if my sanity is as obvious as the bowl of oatmeal in front of me. "You're grieving. You're dealing with moving on. That will take time, it will take forever. Every minute of every day for the rest of your life."

Each word she speaks feels like a nail being hammered around me.

"Do you think Zeke's right?" I ask, unable to meet her eyes with my own. I watch of the cabinet just past her head.

"I don't know. Only you know if you've used a serum lately, right?"

I nod. Then I shake my head. "Unless I'm using them without realizing I am."

She's quiet again and my heart becomes a caged rabbit, kicking against my chest with the need to be free.

"Well, that's a possibility I suppose. But—"

"What? But what?" I ask, wanting an explanation that will hold me over for another day. Hope. Her words can provide me hope if she selects the right combination to this lock.

"Why would you use a serum to invent new fears? Cause that's all I can figure this is. Monsters, huge guys who appear out of thin air and cripple you…that's nothing you've ever been afraid of before, Four. Why wouldn't you use a serum to …I don't know…see Tris."

She says her name and pain and love and memories and anguish all topple down from the tip of my head to the bottom of my feet. A cascading waterfall of emotions that I try so hard to keep hidden flows free.

Tris.

I never allow myself to even think her name. And now Christina's slapping my cheek with the four little letters that make up everything of my existence.

I focus my attention of every other word she said, finding irony in the fact that I had laughed at past humans inventing monsters and now she claims that's what I am doing with this possible simulations.

"Did you watch the security feed?"

I shake my head. I have a limited access job, doing very basic work for Johanna in our local government office. I have no connection, nor familiarity with the Rec Hall. And I was found hysterical and unconscious on the lobby floor. I didn't think asking to review the security footage would be wise while I was there.

"Well then," she says, tapping her hands on the table. "That's where we start."

My eyes travel slowly, but eventually reach her face. She's not calling me crazy. She's not telling me I need to snap out of this and work harder to be better. She's saying let's get to the bottom of this and find out what's happening.

I'm on my feet, collecting a few things and sliding on my boots. She uses the bathroom and I glance up just as the broadcast switches from local news to the weather. A wall of names and faces with the title "Missing" flashes on the screen. I see the dead man from outside Harry's last night. _Missing._ He's not reported dead, just missing.

A cold tingle settles into the base of my spine.

"Ready to go?" Christina says, twirling her car keys around her index finger.

I nod and follow her out the door.


	6. Chapter 6: Security

**Chapter 6: Security**

We stroll through the front door of the Rec Hall and my eyes travel to the doorknob I _know_ I kicked loose this morning. It is perfect just like Zeke said it was.

My nerves feel split open, like a wire that's been cut but the electricity still sparks between the two ends. Christina hasn't asked any more questions and I'm all out of answers. One step away from believing Zeke myself. What if I find nothing on the feed but a drunk version of myself having a mental breakdown?

The lobby is a mix of blues and violets as the sun begins to set. Automatic lights blink on as we make our way down the spiral into the Pit. The security feed is monitored on the ground level, but it's not the only control room located on site.

My muscles complain, but move with ease as we wind our way down. I'm not as stiff now as I was this morning.

Eyes focused on a point in front of me I don't see how the slope continues down to the initiate bunks, the tattoo shop and the bridge over the chasm. We're above all of that right now. On our left are the access doors to the old training facility. To the right stands the barrier to the simulation chamber. We walk forward down a narrow hall that ropes back around and through several more turns.

I haven't set foot in this space in so many years. Walls so familiar my hands might as well be the wallpaper and a floor worn well by little more than my own boots. I walked this path to the control room every morning and night for years. And then one day she followed me here and I never went back.

The black rock under our feet gives way to white tile and I know we're close. I steer us left and my heart leaps up in my throat like a bullet loaded in the chamber of a gun.

"Come on," Christina says, shoving me toward the door. "Only one way to know what's going on."

That's not true, I want to say. I want to remind her that we can just accept I'm crazy and that would explain everything. But she's come this far. She's all but held my hand. I owe her this much.

_Didn't know you had to make yourself feel selfless to be brave._

My heart skips a beat, which hurts with its lodged in my throat.

"Is it locked?" she asks, looking to me to try it first.

I wiggle the handle and the door pops open. This is strange. Of course it's strange. I've rewound my life nearly a decade and I'm investigating the terms of my sanity with a girl who's always found me to be too abnormal for my own good.

The room looks the same. Rows of machines. Wires along the walls. The chairs are turned upside down on the desks and the lights are shut off, but it's the same old room. We step inside and I walk straight to my old station.

The motions are mechanical, the intellectual application minimal. Manning the control room is an automated action—one easily programmed into a serum once upon a time.

"Man this place brings back memories," Christina says, overturning two chairs and dropping her body into one.

I turn knobs and flick switches, push buttons and type lines of code. My mind is functioning on levels outside of consciousness right now. I'm a little in awe that it still knows how to do this.

My mind has never been stiff. My mind has always been fluid like water.

Buzzing, humming, and whirling starts in as the machines click on and the screen turns bright blue with life.

"You always were a computer whiz," Christina says.

I shake my head. "I'm perceptive and know how to push the right buttons when needed."

She snorts. "I'll say."

I spare her a glance filled with questions I don't see the point of voicing.

She playfully punches my side. "I remember fight training with you. You know how to get into an opponent's head and fight with more than just your hands."

I take her words as a compliment, though at my heart I know it's only more proof of my potential for cruelty.

I type in the commands to hack into the security feeds from the cameras above, retrieving the files from this morning.

My finger hovers over the enter key. Am I ready to face the truth?

"Just push it," she says. "Good or bad at least we'll know what to do next."

I take a deep breath. My lungs are stiff and stall only half expanded. The air is biting, dusty and cold as it flows back out of my lungs.

I push the button.

The giant screen on the wall flashes blue, then red, then white, and then black. Christina jumps out of her chair, walking toward the screen just as the feed fades through. The camera is angled perfectly for the lobby entrance. I see myself arriving, kicking at the door. I throw it open and run through the front room, nearly knocking a woman over as I do.

"Is that when you showed up?" Christina asks.

I nod. I hold my breath until I arrive on the screen again. People walk in and out of the lobby. Lots of people. Lights are shining. The doors are unlocked.

Already my brain is a closed up hive of bees with thoughts and desires buzzing and crashing at the sides of my skull.

These people weren't here.

Those lights weren't on.

Every hand that I have is screaming that I really am breaking from my mind and yet I'm desperate for another hand to raise and defend that I'm okay.

The power in the room surges and the overhead lights cut off but the screen is still playing.

And I see myself running.

And I hold my breath.

And then I see the looming form of the hulk as he enters the frame.

_I'm not crazy. _

His coat is brown, leather, almost brushing the floor as he moves with unbelievable speed to close the distance between us. My heart races as if I'm back in that moment and not watching it replay on a screen. I remember the sting of air in my lungs, remember how it felt to be lifted off the ground and tossed like I was a boot and not a man.

I see my body crumple to the ground and I feel my knees shake under me now. The man stares down at me for a moment and I wonder why he didn't hurt me more. Why didn't he kill me?

He storms off, through the front doors.

He's out there. He's loose on the world and I need to find him and stop him. I'm heading towards the door, intent to help on the tip of my fingers and the spring of my toes.

The screen goes blank and I realize Christina is surprisingly silent. The room is pitch black around me. How did that happen?

Something cold touches my cheek. Something hisses in the darkness.

I'm not afraid of the dark. I'm not afraid of snakes.

I'm not afraid of death.

My muscles lock tight and I swing my leg around, connecting with something solid to the right of me. Hands lock around my calf and pull me forward, but I'm too stable to be knocked down. One of the knives is in my hand and I'm slashing at my attacker, gaining enough surprise to break free.

I'm out the door and running down the hall, screaming Christina's name.

I don't see the slab of marble that slams against my face.

I'm on the ground, nose bleeding into my mouth and ears ringing.

And then she's there.

Tris.

She's over me, screaming my name, telling me to stand up, keep running.

And I know.

I close my eyes and wake up.


	7. Chapter 7: Again

**Chapter 7: Again**

I'm on my back in the dark, arms and legs stretched out on either side of me. The lights click on in rows and the center of the room, where I lay, is last. My eyes narrow as they adjust to sting of bright light. My hearing muffles as it reacquaints itself with the echoing silence of the chamber.

So close. I was so damn close that time.

"You were so damn slow that time," Zeke grumbles over the hiss and whine of the electronic doors.

I'm all out of excuses and I don't know what to say anyway. The transition back from the simulation always makes me feel like I'm walking through thick mud. My brain processes everything slower. My body wishes it was back there and not here.

Here is Hell.

The rest of the audience shuffles in and my eyes greet each face with the enthusiasm of a man about to be electrocuted. It's a small team of overly optimistic fools who look to me to be some sort of leader.

I massage my neck. I'm always stiff after a simulation anymore.

"How long?" I ask, glancing straight to Zeke and block out everyone else.

"How long did you think it was?" he replies to my question with a question and I try not to growl.

I recall the events of the sim. I can't remember further than wandering through the neighborhood and Zeke finding me the night before. The sun had just begun to set when Christina and I entered the compound. "Maybe twenty four hours," I guess.

He nods, hands on his hips like he's posing for a recruitment poster. "You were down thirty minutes."

I curse under my breath. Thirty minutes? Might as well hand my head over to the drainers. I should be able to do better. I can resist serums. I can manipulate simulations.

Once I'm aware I'm in one that is.

"I think it's safe to say we're producing a more authentic batch," a voice says from the exterior of my peripherals.

I bite back the curse I want to throw at that voice. Apparently I'm both stiff and aggressively explosive when I wake up from sims now.

Caleb shifts closer to my line of sight and I want to look away, but I know it's rude. Tempting, but rude. He holds an electric tablet in his hands for notes. I wait for him to start poking and prodding my mind like it's my veins and his questions are a needle.

"Did you ever feel aware that something was not right in the simulation?"

I scratch a spot on the side of my face. "Lots."

His eyes are so familiar that it's almost painful to look straight into them but I do when he narrows them for an elaboration.

I click my tongue against the roof of my mouth.

Zeke kicks my leg and shakes his head.

"Yeah," I sigh, "a few times I … I remember thinking things were happening that everyone around me didn't believe."

He nods and marks notes on the pad in his hand. I try not to marvel at the way his mind works. He acts as though he could change the foundation of the world with just the right combination of codes in the chips he puts in our minds.

"What would happen during those times to keep you rooted in the scenario?"

My teeth tug my bottom lip between them and bite down. What would happen to keep me thinking a dream is real? I shake my head. "Dunno. Usually someone would tell me something that made sense. And…I'd hear…" My voice trails off and everyone in the room knows what I heard.

Caleb opens his mouth to ask another question, but Zeke cuts in.

"Okay, party's over," he announces, waving toward the door. "Let the guy get some rest. We'll select a new volunteer tomorrow."

Feet shuffle past me and I keep my eyes focused on the floor. This feels so strange. We all fought so hard to keep the serums out of our heads. We broke through unbelievable walls to define reality and now here we are…letting a bunch of Erudites crawl back into our skulls and poke around.

Once we're alone Zeke, drops down into a crouch beside me. "Was _she_ in it again?"

He doesn't have to specify. "A few times," I tell him.

He nods, rubbing the back of his neck like all the sudden his emotions are leaking out through his pores. "That's…weird, man."

"Yeah," I agree.

"I mean…me," he says, slapping a hand to his chest, "a dad? You _have_ to know that's not real in the moment, right?"

In all honestly Mina has become one of the most real projections in these simulations to me. Something is so true, so honest about her. Maybe it's all the parts of me that I wish someone had seen when I was that small, but every time she pops up in my head I hold tight to her.

It is the nature of the serum Caleb is developing. We have to identify and recognize the truths that we don't want to deny in order to wake up from the dreams. It's the only way to survive. The only way we'll fight the compulsion.

I scrub my hands over my face, wishing I were a stronger person. "I don't even think about it anymore." I sigh. "Maybe I should sit out the next couple of rounds. I think I'm starting to like being in there more than being out here."

A laugh echoes from the corner of the room. Just one, sharp burst of noise that suddenly puts me on edge. I hadn't realized he walked into the room and didn't walk back out.

I don't turn to look at him. The simulations put me on a weird, edgy stance with him for the first several hours after I've woken up. I don't know if I can trust him. I'm not even entirely certain he's real.

And yet he's kind of the only thing keeping us all going down here in the Pit.

"What's so funny?" Zeke challenges. Zeke is lacking that natural fear most people have. He stands tall and stares every unknown element in the eye.

"Not funny," Dimitri says with that accent that makes words sound too heavy in his mouth. "Ironic. I understand the desire to believe the lie."

My eyes roll and Zeke doesn't even both hiding his laugh. I have no desire to live that lie. If I was going to pick a lie to live in, Tris would be alive and we would live happily ever after. I'd live in a world where monsters that control people's minds and drain their blood for feeding didn't one day overrun our streets. I wouldn't pick that world to escape this one.

"So," Zeke says with a clap of his hands. "We start again tomorrow." He glances between where I sit and behind me where Dimitri must be leaning against a wall. "It's getting close to nightfall so we've got to close down shop. You guys want any power diverted in here tonight?"

I start to say no, I want to sleep, but Dimitri overrides me. "Yes. Here and in the training room, please."

Zeke salutes and heads out.

I flop back on to the hard mat, staring up at the glaring light.

"How did I arrive in this one?" he asks.

I cross one ankle over the other. Now we begin the hour long interrogation that will sound similar to every other time he's asked these questions of me. I humor him. I understand his devotion to his cause. I once had that kind of dedication too.

"Flash of light. I found you at the base of the chasm…thought you were a rock at first."

His boots are heavy but his steps are light. I feel the vibrations of his movements against the mat, but I don't hear sound.

"That's fairly close to what really happened."

I close my eyes. I don't know if I'm required to acknowledge the validity of his statement. We were both there that night. He knows how he breached this point in space and time, and I know when and where he showed up. Even so I make some sort of noise that indicates I agree with him.

"Did you see me after? Did you see any of the Strigoi?"

He calls them by the title of his time. I replace the word with my own. Drainers. Ancient humanity called them vampires. Whatever anyone calls them, they are monsters.

My eyes open and he's standing right above me. I blink a few times. "I didn't. I saw a victim. I saw a security feed with you kicking my ass." He smirks and I glare. "And the light cut out. I _think_ Drainers were in the darkness. I felt cold skin, heard them hissing…ran into something that felt damn near like stone—"

He nods. "Strigoi."

I shrug. I have to take his word for it. I scratch my wrist, running my finger along the raised flesh just below my palm. The crescent shaped scar is a constant reminder to me. In the simulations I don't have these scars. In the simulations I know nothing of this world and the monsters that feed on you and rob your memories. I know Drainers fed upon me before Dimitri arrived, but I don't know what they look like.

No one knows.

Except Dimitri.

Well, Dimitri and a small band of resistance who followed him from the past to this horrific future.

"That's good," he decides, folding his arms over his chest. I try to count the inches that from the floor to the top of his head. He's taller than any man I've ever encountered.

"It's stagnant," I say, shoving into a quick sit and then jumping to my feet. I don't elaborate and I have a feeling he doesn't need me to. This time mirrors just about every other time I've gone under. I'm no prodigy with these serums. I'm little to no help at all with the resistance.

I head towards the door, hoping I can slip out to my bunk and bypass whatever plan he had for the training room tonight. My finger is still on the control panel when he says, "run."

I sigh. I'm not some sixteen year old Stiff anymore. I don't need to work on my agility. I might be two feet shorter than him but I can take him in fight. I don't need to train like some initiate afraid of a Factionless future.

We're already living in a Factionless future.

Even so, I nod and leave the chamber at a dead sprint. I set off for laps around the training room, counting seconds. Five minutes later Dimitri emerges from the chamber. He's stripped his duster and donned a training suit and he matches my stride effortlessly on my next pass. I don't ask him what he was doing in the chamber alone. I know the look in his eyes as he runs beside me. It's the look that I used to have every time I left the chamber. He's facing his fears. I don't judge him for that. I faced mine for years.

Of course, it took me a lot longer than five minutes to overcome mine.

The question tugs at the corner of my mind, but I don't ask it out loud.

What on earth is he afraid of?


	8. Chapter 8: Progress

**Chapter 8: Progress**

Zeke and Shauna are waiting for me the next morning at breakfast. She spins here wheelchair out of the way to let me slide on to the bench. We eat what we can find on scavenger hunts during day patrols. Apparently last night the patrol raided an oatmeal factory. Every plate around me is covered in the goop. Just the sight brings back the memory of my last sim.

I slop a few spoonfuls on to my plate and dive in. Conversation is casual all around us. Zeke and Shauna speak softly to each other, but no one talks to me. I'm the only one who's been willing to take the compulsion serum. Tension and fear tend to isolate people, but I find now that everyone else's worries are what keeps them away from me. I don't mind it. I like being alone.

At least when I'm alone no one's asking me about Tris.

"Well, start the party without me why don't you," Christina says, sliding on to the bench across from me.

Zeke flashes her a smile. "I thought the party doesn't start until you arrive?"

She points her spoon at him and agrees. She makes a face as she stares at the oatmeal but puts some in her bowl.

"If you don't like it," I say, "then why did your patrol bring so much of it back?"

"Not something we could control," she says, looking ready to fling the contents of her spoon across the table at me. "We can't make it out of the Dauntless sector even in the daylight."

I feel strange talking about the world outside of the compound now. I spend nearly every day trapped in simulations where I'm outside, free and living a life much like I did a few years ago. But in reality the only ones who taste fresh air are the patrols that go out during the day, while the Drainers hide from the sun. I feel like a top that never stops spinning. I'm trapped in an endless day, shrouded by an endless night.

Dimitri enters the dining hall a few minutes later, but he doesn't eat. I'm sure at some point he does eat. He just never eats with us.

"Four's boyfriend is here," Christina says, waggling her brows.

I resist the urge to punch her.

"He's not my boyfriend," I grumble.

"Right, right," Zeke says, grinning when he notices the blush creeping up my neck. "You just really _admire_ and _respect_ him."

I stuff more gooey mush in my mouth and roll my eyes. I prefer it when no one talks to me.

"So how'd it go?" Christina asks. She's never one for silence. I'm pretty sure when she dies her corpse will find a way to keep on talking.

I shrug my shoulder as I chew.

"Same old, same old," Zeke says.

Her face remains the same casual mask it always is but her eyes betray a letdown. Guilt punches my gut with a hard jab. She's been leading good people into the streets, risking their lives to keep us alive down here while we play mind games and we're not seeing any results. I can't help but believe that's all my fault.

"Someone else is going to start today," I say.

Her brows knit together. "Why? Won't that set everything back to the beginning?"

"Not really," Zeke says. "Four has helped prove that the program does a damn good job of keeping the mind in a state of acceptance…no matter how absurd the situation is." 

He says that because he thinks it's crazy he would be a father. I keep my lips sealed, shoving the oatmeal away. I know Zeke would make a wonderful father. And I refuse to feel guilty about my mind inventing such a gift to the world like little Mina. I do feel guilty that the last time I saw her I scared her. I sort of wish I was the one going under in an hour so I could make it up to her.

A laugh escapes me and Zeke and Christina offer me confused me looks that I wave off. I'm not about to try to explain that insanity in my head. I feel compassion for a make-believe child. Me. Tobias Eaton gives a shit about a little kid who isn't even real.

The rest of the meal doesn't pass in silence but I am no longer involved in any of the conversations. Christina tells Zeke about not venturing too far away from the compound because everyone they encountered were so loose from feeding that they seemed to be drinking Peace serum. Zeke gives her a run down on my latest simulation. The bits he knows at least. I've never told either of them that in the simulations Christina has a boyfriend. I'm not sure why I don't share that information. I tell Zeke he has a daughter. I tell Dimitri he kicks my ass. Why is it so important to me that I keep that little piece of information to myself?

Maybe because I know how many times she's trusted her heart to someone only to lose them. I know how that feels. And I don't want to be the one to tell her if she were only living in that other reality she could be happy again.

It's an odd sort of thing to realize one can only truly be happy when blissfully removed from their own reality.

We finish eating and head to the training level. Shauna, Caleb, and a handful of others stay behind to clean up since training isn't their thing. Dimitri is standing outside the chamber. His arms are behind his back. His leather duster swaying around him as he walks back and forth. His fellow travelers from the past flank either side of him. There are five in total, counting Dimitri—two women, two men, and one boy who doesn't look much older than Uriah had the last time I saw him. All five are formidable looking. All five probably would have chosen to be Dauntless. He tells us they're not human either. They have a touch of whatever the Drainers are in their DNA. He has a title for what they are and I don't bother remembering it. I consider them all Dauntless now.

"We have a change in agenda," Dimitri announces and everyone around me goes stiff with tension. "We're going to put our training into action. We have information of a possible nest of Strigoi."

"A nest?" Zeke whispers next to me. "Are they birds?"

"Yeah," I tease, rubbing my wrists. "We've all been hiding from a bunch of angry, blood sucking birds. The secret's out."

He shoots me a look and my return stare warns he needs to open up his brain more than his ears and really _listen_ to Dimitri.

"This half of the room," Dimitri says, waving to the right side. "You will follow Eddie and Mikhail . This section," he says pointing to a portion of the left side of the room, "will follow Janine and Alberta."

My mind is trying to add up this equation, realizing the section of the crowd that Zeke, Christina, and I are in has yet to be claimed.

Dimitri points straight ahead, over all the others as if he were aiming a dagger at me. "And this group will follow me."

Murmurs infiltrate the audience as energy begins to buzz amongst us. We've been cooped up in this hell hole for months, doing little more than running outside of a few hours and snatching food. We're Dauntless. We burn with the need for motion.

And we're finally going to get to move.

"Break off into your groups for a debriefing. If all goes as planned, we will reconvene here just before dusk."

"Still don't get why he has to be the one in charge," Christina says.

"Oh that's easy," Zeke says with a wide smile that I instantly want to slap off his face. "He's Four's boyfriend."


	9. Chapter 9: Action

**Chapter 9: Action**

Dimitri leads us to the initiates' barracks and I feel like I'm suddenly sixteen again. I'm jittery, on edge. I'm overflowing with emotions and expectations and in desperate need to vent by means of connecting my fists with something.

He adopts the stance he always has when speaking to a crowd. Intimidating and commanding, and yet somehow humble. I can tell he doesn't want to be the one in charge. He doesn't want to be fighting any war at all. "Forgive the dramatics of the situation, but it is important that all three of our groups plan in total ignorance of each other."

"We're not all working for the same goal?" Christina asks.

I shake my head. You can pull an initiate out of Candor, but you can _never_ beat the Candor out of an initiate.

"No," Dimitri admits. "Each group will focus on a different mission. Each group leader has a basic knowledge of what all three groups will be doing, but only knows the objective of their specific group."

I can see the why on Christina's tongue as she opens mouth.

Dimitri anticipates it as well. "If we're captured, the Strigoi won't even have to torture information out of you. They will compel you to tell them your secrets…if they believe you are hiding anything. Two of the three groups will not even draw that sort of attention. They are bait to draw the Strigoi guard away from the nest."

"Two of the three," Zeke says, adding up the math along with me. "So the last group is doing what, exactly?"

My eyes search the sea of black around me. "We're attacking the nest, aren't we?"

"Something like that," Dimitri says with a sharp nod. "Do not bother with weapons. Just remember what we've taught you."

"All they've taught us to do is keep our heads down and run if we think something isn't right," Christina whispers.

"Yes," Dimitri says, hearing her from across the room. I share an impressed look with Christina. "That is exactly what you should do if you encounter a Strigoi." 

"We can fight," she insists. "We've all been trained to fight." She points to me and her voice raises another level. "He taught us how to fight."

"Funny," Dimitri says. I find no humor in the look he gives her. "The first thing everyone told me about Tobias is that he runs fast."

My teeth sink into the soft flesh inside my cheek and I taste blood. I run fast. I'm a coward.

Dimitri checks his watch. "It's a quarter till noon. We're only going to attempt this until an hour before sundown. That gives us enough time to double back and make it underground without the Strigoi realizing where we're going." 

"Isn't the plan to kill them?" someone calls out.

Dimitri shakes his head. "No. The plan is to find them."

I must be standing too close to Christina because a question burns up my side and takes root in my brain and I just have to ask, "Why?"

"They have something I want."

He stalks toward the back exit of the room and it's silently agreed that we are to follow. I take up the rear position, snagging a few knives on the way out. Sure he said no weapons, but I am never good with following orders.

The sun is bright and painful on my eyes. I can't remember the last time I saw the real thing. Air rushes in and out of me with anticipation. It's fresher than the recirculated oxygen in the Pit and my lungs are greedy for its purity. We fan out so as not to garner attention as a group. I keep Christina and Zeke in my sights when my face isn't pointed at the ground.

It's something I never noticed until I met Dimitri. People these days never look at each other. They're wandering around in a haze, lost in another world that only they can see and hear. My shoulders slacken and I adopt a look of detachment. I don't walk too fast, but I don't fall behind, measuring my steps with the beats of my heart, which I keep in check even though I sense danger on the horizon.

I'm not afraid of death.

I fear getting hurt and I fear my friends being hurt. I fear losing myself to the oblivion again. These are all manageable fears that I shove to the back of my mind like clearing rocks from a stream. Wounds will heal. If one of us is still free at the end of this they will see to freeing the rest of us. And if I die, so be it. It might be time for that to happen anyway.

We walk for an hour, maybe a little less, twisting and turning through streets and buildings. Christina holds up her fist and I stop. We're separated by a small side street. She's on one side in the shadows of an alley and I'm on the other in the middle of the sidewalk. I can no longer see Zeke, having long since lost visual of any other member of the team.

My heart begins to speed, not from fear. This is the rush of releasing fear, tumbling over the side of the cliff that I can't fight anymore. I swallow once, twice, and shuffle forward.

It's broad daylight. People walk along the sidewalks. Cars line the streets. Every pair of eyes belongs to the Drainers. Maybe not right this second, but they'll all see me, they'll all remember me.

I do not fear death.

I stroll across the street, weaving around the bumpers of a few cars and casually join Christina in the alley. She shoots me the kind of look that should put me on edge. It just clears my head even more. I find clarity in war. I find peace in destruction.

We work our way down the alley as I glance back every few steps to make sure we're alone. At the end of the walk is an open manhole that leads underground.

"Is this some kind of a joke?" she whispers.

I recall her fears from her days of training. Christina fears darkness, more to the point she fears the unknown. It's a common trait in Candors. They're used to total honesty and transparency. Darkness offers lies. Darkness hides all truths. I doubt her fear will cripple her from going forward with the mission, but I understand her hesitancy.

I still hate standing on the top of buildings.

The sewer is wet and foul. I keep my breaths shallow as we move forward into the shadows.

"Zeke," Christina whispers.

It's fruitless, not a single sliver of light can be found since I closed the manhole when I climbed in, but my eyes blink as if the blackness seeping into them can be cleared. My intuition tells me to stay on guard, but worry doesn't burden me. I have trust in Dimitri. He wouldn't lead us into a battle we can't fight.

"This way," Zeke calls out and then laughs. His voice echoes all around us. Without a light to see _this_ way could be in any direction, and he knows it. "I'm going to walk forward, you guys stand still."

I reach a hand out and touch Christina's shoulder. She tenses but quickly relaxes. Zeke moves quietly, but not silently. A few steps and I know exactly what direction he's coming from. I brace myself for him running into my side.

He surprises me by tapping my shoulder.

"Put these on," he says, shoving a pair of glasses into my hand.

I slide them on and instantly the tunnels light up. I lower the glasses and find everything still as dark as midnight.

"Night vision?" I ask. We had masks with this sort of technology before. These are nothing like those. These are lightweight, like any other pair of glasses.

"Something Caleb developed a little while ago. Said he thought it was a useless endeavor since we never take chances at night, but Dimitri told him to make a bunch of them anyway."

I try not to scrunch my nose, knowing that Caleb has created the device that is about to protect me on this mission. He will never earn my forgiveness. No matter how many ways he saves my life. I will never see the value in his continuing on.

It's not my life he should have protected.

"Dimitri went ahead to scout. We're all huddled down here," Zeke says, pointing to a tunnel off to the left.

I motion for him and Christina to take the lead. I prefer to watch for what will sneak up behind us. Most everyone squats down, sharing silent conversations with looks and hand gestures. I stand. My hands are on my hips and my eyes are scanning every inch of the tunnel.

Now that we're immobile, waiting, shit's starting to get to me. We're bottled in, with only one known exit. Dimitri is the only member of our team with knowledge of what we're looking for and how to fight them. For all any of us know Drainers are seven foot beasts with sharp teeth that have to be decapitated to be killed. All I can ever remember about them is how solid their bodies are.

My tension must be noticeable even in the darkness, because Christina stands up. She doesn't speak. Shock rattles my chest at how silent she remains. She does keep glancing at me, saying plenty with her eyes. I shake my head as if to tell her to drop it. She doesn't.

A sound starts to weasel down the tunnel off to my right. It's a soft moaning, worm of noise. It creeps and crawls quietly until it's all I can hear. I keep glancing that way, but see nothing.

"We don't have any weapons," Zeke whispers.

"I have three knives," I say.

Christina adds, "I have a gun under my jacket."

I glance at her and we both look up to Zeke. He smirks, waving knife in his hand.

None of us are good with following orders.

"What is that?" Christina asks, confirming that the noise I hear is real.

I shrug.

"Should we…" Zeke nods in that direction.

I shoot a look at the others who are crouched down in the tunnel. Ten in total would be left waiting for both Dimitri and us to return.

I shake my head. "No. Dimitri told us to wait so we wait."

They nod, though reluctance is evident in the way their heads bob.

Seconds become minutes and the sound grows louder and louder. Or maybe I just find my attention turning more and more in that direction.

Christina sighs. "Why did he even bring us?"

"Because I thought you could remain quiet."

I flinch, swinging my right fist in the direction of his voice as my brain processes Dimitri is the one speaking. My instinct is sharper than my intellect.

Dimitri is faster than both.

He catches my fist mid-flight and absorbs the force of my swing without moving an inch. I notice he's not wearing glasses.

"I have made a sweep of the area," he says. "And the nest is not here."

He turns on his heel and heads toward the ladder. My knuckles sting and as I shake my hand I realize the whole mysteriously stoic routine is a pain in the ass. I wonder how anyone put up with me before Tris came along.

Everyone shoves around me to follow him to the ladder and my focus is drawn once more to the moaning tunnel.

"Tobias," he calls, waiting at the base of the ladder as everyone climbs out.

I point toward the noise. "You don't hear that?"

"You shouldn't."

His response does little to put me at ease. "What do you mean?"

"Go up," he says, pointing to the access to the street. Christina is the last one out before me and a blue, clear sky shines overhead.

For a moment I'm distracted by the thought that it's summer time outside. All of my simulations are set in the winter. I don't remember the streets of Chicago without a powdering of snow.

"Tobias," Dimitri repeats. I sense no stress in his voice. He's insistent, but not bothered.

I glance again in the direction of the echo. Something isn't right. Dimitri wouldn't just walk away from this. He's risked too many lives all at once for us just to walk away from this.

I meet his eyes one last time and then take off down the tunnel. If he follows me, I don't know. I run fast. He runs silent. I follow the sound to another intersection opening. I turn in circles, trying to figure out which opening to follow next.

There, to my left this time I hear the moaning. Is it someone in pain, someone who is wounded and needs help? Is it a trap? Will a Drainer be waiting to offer me amnesia?

I jump into the tunnel, head first. I have a knife in each hand and I'm not being too quiet as I approach. I think the advantage of a surprise was lost when I followed this lead.

I see light up ahead and I take off my glasses as I approach. Standing in the middle of another opening is a small figure. A child. The child is swathed in light from above. I slow my feet as I approach. The kid, a young girl, is neither moving further into the sewer, nor climbing the ladder to the surface. I can see from my vantage point that she is shaking in fear.

I crouch low when I reach the end of my tunnel. I can't see them, but I can sense them. In the four remaining openings that line the small circular space where the child stands, Drainers wait. If I rush towards her, I risk drawing them out. They're fast. Faster than me. I might be caught before I can get to the light. They'll bite me and I'll bring the child to them willingly, unknowingly.

If I speak, I'll draw their attention too, but maybe she'll be encouraged to climb and she'll be above ground before I can try to harm her.

"Kid," I whisper.

And she turns toward me.

Mina.

My muscles lock down, a cold chill infusing along my spine.

_Get out!_ My mind shrieks but it's already too late. Water splashes as the four tunnels drain of monsters. Two thick arms close around me from behind. I can't fight. I can't scream. My eyes are glued to Mina's small face. Her mouth opens but her voice is as silent as mine.

A pair of red eyes moves in front of me, isolating my fear from Mina's. I see the fangs as they move closer to my flesh, hear the hissing as the snake is about to strike. For one sweet second everything is bliss. I'm back in a room in a place I don't know as home, but I feel comfortable in. I'm on a couch, limbs wrapped around the center of my universe. I feel her breaths matched to mine. Her heart beats against my chest. I smell the clean scent of her hair, her skin. I feel the smooth lines of her back and hips on my fingertips.

That's when I know to wake up. I don't see her this time, but she is everywhere and she is everything.

My mind says the word that pulls me out of this dream.

Tris.


	10. Chapter 10: Stability

**Chapter 10: Stability **

My lungs jerk in my chest and I cough. My eyelids blink rapidly until the muted lights of the dining hall come into view. I'm on my back two feet from the table where I ate breakfast.

Zeke and Christina are staring at me from their seats, but neither is so concerned as to stand over me.

I rub the back of my head as I sit up, glancing around. "What happened?"

Zeke shrugs. "You took a bite of your oatmeal and stumbled over."

"How long was I out?"

"Couple of seconds," Christina says, with an equally unaffected movement of her shoulders.

Couple of seconds? I recall nearly an entire day's worth of events. My muscles feel strained. My toes feel cold as if the sewer water had seeped into my skin.

How is that possible?

"Tobias?" Dimitri asks, suddenly standing above me.

My mind spins in fifteen different directions. I'm back in the middle of that sewer, trying to find the right tunnel to run down.

He offers me his hand and I take the help to get to my feet. My eyes scan the room. A group of kids eat at a table in the far corner of the dining hall. I don't see her sitting there. That has to mean this is real, right?

"Tobias?"

Dimitri's tone is persistent, concerned, but still calm. I draw strength from that unnerving calm.

"I'm okay," I lie. "I think…the simulations are just getting to me."

My eyes land on Caleb where he sits alone at the end of the table two rows over. I mumble some sort of excuse me to Dimitri. Caleb must sense my approach, because he looks up, eyes going wide with uncertainty.

"Tobias?"

My name is nothing more than a worried question this morning it seems.

I nod. "What did you do?"

It seems impossible but his eyes expand even wider. "I…what do you…I…I…"

"My oatmeal," I say, steering this conversation on to the tracks of accusation. "What did you put into my oatmeal?"

I know from experience that old factions used to deliver serums by means of food. Amity kept the peace within their compound by drugging their population with their morning bread. This is the only rational explanation I have for what just happened.

Confusion might as well be his nose, or his eyes, it's so fixed on his face it's a permanent part of it. "I don't know what you're talking about."

My ears tell me honesty underlines his words. Every other part of me calls him a two-faced liar. "Try that again. And this time tell me how you got the serum into my bowl and not anyone else's."

Caleb's skin grows paler than the snow that lines the streets in my simulations. "I didn't. I swear…" His eyes blink a few times and he searches the table in front of him as if answers might float in the air. That pondering look that Jeanine used to get in her eyes right before she tortured me crosses his. And the thought that maybe he didn't do anything worms into my mind, followed closely by the notion he's seeing all the applications of blind testing. The room suddenly fills with lab rats in Caleb's eyes.

I lose what little control I had on my temper then.

"We're people" I shout, lifting him out of his seat by way of my hands on his collar. "Our minds are our own! Don't do anything to us that you don't want done to yourself!"

He's a sputtering mess and it takes several intervening hands to pry me away. Even once they force me to let him go I keep swinging. He has no right to look like that. He can't prey upon the vulnerability we all share against the Drainers and use it to treat us all like experiments.

"Calm down," Dimitri says, shoving himself in the middle of everything.

I have to remind myself that I respect the guy otherwise I'd punch him in the face.

"Caleb, please follow us to the simulation chamber. Everyone else follow Eddie and Janine to the training room."

Dimitri's hand is clamped down on my shoulder as it moves up and down with my fight to regain a steady breath. I'm angry. So livid I see every line of this room with crystal clarity.

"Move," he says, shoving me toward the walkway.

We enter the chamber five minutes later and I'm still buzzing with rage. "I experienced a simulation in the middle of breakfast," I say over the hiss of the electronic doors closing behind us.

Dimitri doesn't seem the least bit interested to hear what I have to say. His attention is set on Caleb. Caleb looks ready to piss his pants.

"No one drugged you, Tobias," Dimitri says, eyes still trained on Caleb.

"Well I didn't imagine it…I was out of my mind, on some mission to—"

"Where?" Dimitri asks, eyes narrowing.

His sudden shift in focus throws me off balance for a second. What did it matter what I saw in a dream? "Sewer…uptown about fifteen blocks or so."

"What are the parameters of the last serum?" he asks, returning his attention to Caleb. "Is it possible for it to manifest beyond the controlled environment?"

"Are you suggesting it's a permanent part of my mind now?" I ask before Caleb has a chance to speak.

Dimitri ignores me and nods for Caleb to talk.

"It's …possible but not probable. I've made every test with a kill switch. It's just like the fear simulations that the Dauntless used to use. Once the host realizes the simulation isn't real, they wake up and the program neutralizes."

His eyes run up and down my body like he's seeing me for the first time. "It is…I don't know…"

"What?" I say, my hands clenching into fists.

He flinches. "We've strayed from any original application of the serums so much…adapted so much of the program to respond to natural stimulus keep you embedded even when the brain recognizes fiction…"

"Is it possible that the brain…somehow can absorb the serum?" Dimitri suggests. I feel like a child jus tall enough to touch the first rung of a ladder, but not big enough to pull myself up it. I understand what they're saying, but my mind can't make sense of how any of it is possible.

My eyes search the room for a sign of her. She's not here. This has to be real.

"Maybe," Caleb says and for the first time I see hesitance at the thought of this new knowledge.

"What?" I ask, desperate for an answer that I know he doesn't have.

"It could be possible that the brain…_your _brain hasevolved to produce the serum on its own. That…it's…saturated your mind to the brink of altering it permanently."

Evolve. Produce. Saturated. All these words float around me, weighing down the air that chokes my lungs. But none are as terrifying as the last—permanently.

"What are saying? That I'm never going to be able to shut it off? That I won't be able to know what's real…ever?"

Caleb shakes his head, desolation drawing the lines of his face down. "I don't know. I have to run tests—"

"I'm not an experiment! Why didn't you warn me about this when you started these tests?" Hysteria is a foreign experience that I don't like, but I can't contain. I feel like I'm running in circles in the middle of a room with no doors. The faster I run the faster I have to run. There's no ending. No exit. I'm more trapped now than I've ever been.

I was trapped by fear before Tris.

I was broken into pieces when I lost her.

I was under a spell with the Drainers.

But now? Now I don't know what's real. I don't know the borders of my world. I don't know if I'm alive or dead. If I'm having this conversation or if I'm sleep in a bed.

And I'll never know.

Dimitri gives me a look that tells me to pull myself together and I flip him off. I can't keep running laps for him. I can't keep any of this up much longer. My heart might not be full anymore, but that doesn't make it immortal. Eventually it will give out on me.

I am only a man. A very limited man.

Dimitri nods. "Caleb, go run your tests. Tobias is not to be examined without his express consent. Agree?" He glances between the two of us and Caleb and I approve with nods.

The last member of the Prior family scurries off and out of the room. I stare blindly at the stiff, black mat once Dimitri and I are alone.

"Don't blame him," he says. "He is trying to help. He is also a flawed man."

The comparison stings, but I look at him as I realize he too finds me lacking. It strikes me as odd to realize Dimitri doesn't have the scar that runs the length of his face in reality. Why would I imagine it? Why would I imagine any of what I see? I see children that my friends never want and relationships that I keep secret from those I know feel so alone. And now I see covert operations that lead to nothing but death.

Why?

"I am inadequate," I agree. "I used to believe I was Divergent. I used to believe I controlled this sort of thing. I guess I really am damaged."

How simple the world was when I thought fear was a tangible concept that could be manipulated and contained.

I never knew real fear.

Not until five minutes ago when I realized I'll never know my own mind again.

"All men have flaws, Tobias. We are only limited by our inability to see such flaws in ourselves."

He's a bucket full of all these useless raindrops he calls wisdom. I call it water. No one drop of water is any more impressive than another, but Dimitri's words keeping on dripping.

"I see all of my issues," I say. "I'm nothing but mistakes."

"Your soldiers would disagree with you faster than you can blink," he says. A sad smile turns his lips. "And I wasn't talking about you."

The equation he put before me was Caleb, myself, and… him. I don't understand this answer.

"In what way are you flawed?"

If Zeke were in the room with us he'd be making kissing noises. And maybe to some extent I would admit that, yeah, Dimitri can't do any wrong in my eyes. But it's an honest question. He's not quick with sharing information. He's not one to get to know any of us on a personal level. But he doesn't walk around with that look of death on his face. The rest of us are gutted out. We wander around, looking for the purpose of keeping air moving in and out of our lungs.

Dimitri breathes easily.

His shoulders shrug. "It is not something you can see, but something I know."

And he adds a few more drops to the bucket, but these words I have to agree with. Tris never understood my self-loathing. She saw a different man than I am.

He claps me on the shoulder. "Go, get some rest. Fresh eyes see sharper than tired ones."

"You should write a book," I say.

He laughs. "I've been told that before."

"By who?"

The question doesn't mean much. This is one of the first times I'm talking to him about something other than how to run faster, or focus through a simulation. I'm not even all that curious to know the answer. I'm just happy to have a normal conversation for a change.

His eyes darken and he rubs the side of his neck. I see two small puncture points at the base of his throat.

He has been injecting himself with fear serum.

"A topic for another day. Go. Sleep."

I understand too well how walling yourself up with your fears can comfort a wounded soul. So I nod and leave.

But I will find no rest.


	11. Chapter 11: Basic

**Chapter 11: Basic**

Every living organism has needs. Centuries ago, mankind believed those needs to be biological. A body needed food, needed water, and air. Until those basic requirements were met, a man couldn't be expected to evolve past an animal.

The society that raised me taught that the most important needs weren't based in biology, but rather in social, intellectual… cerebral contexts. The factions valued a trait of human nature and amplified it as a way of life. If a body could not exist within its chosen faction, it did not receive nutrition, or safety. A Factionless man de-evolved into an animal in the community's eyes.

I stare at the wall in my apartment.

Fear God Alone.

The words are carved into the stone. I didn't put them there. Every Dauntless apartment has the saying scratched into the walls. The concept is strange to me—telling a person to fear something that is meant to give them peace. With so much in this world to truly be afraid of, why must God be the one thing I can't overcome?

I sit on the floor, my back to the door. I don't move to the bed. I can't even look at it. These four walls used to be my sanctuary. In here I could take off my shirt and be Tobias, the Divergent. Outside I had to be Four, the stern Dauntless leader. In here I could have a heart.

In here I once found my heart.

If I'm quiet enough, I can still hear the whisper of her breathing. It was swallow and weak that night. She was strong. Her body was taut with the force of her fight even in rest. They broke her ribs. They bruised her face. They even added a fear to her psyche.

But they couldn't damage her spirit.

A heavy sigh leaves my lips as my eyes travel up the walls as if the ceiling holds all the secrets I'm looking for. What did she think of this space? We only spent a few nights in this room together—one when she fought for the will to survive and one when I did.

I'd never known such devastation as waking up to an empty bed.

I knew she would do it.

I gave up on being angry at her just so I could keep my arms around her that night.

And then she left. She walked off into the snares of the enemy to save others.

She didn't stop to think how that would kill me.

I scrub my hands over my face. I know why I prefer the simulations to reality. In the sims I still hear her. I know she's dead, but she's not gone. My thoughts are scattered rocks in the middle of a stream and I can't pull them all together. I only know I'm broken. Damaged. I don't belong here. I don't belong above ground with the Drainers.

My eyes travel the curves of God. Maybe it's time to face that fear.

The door rattles behind me, shaking my shoulders.

"You in there?" Zeke calls from the hall.

"What do you want?" I shout.

"Dinner time, man," he says. "Shauna told me to tell you that she made chocolate cake. Dunno why. I'm not sharing any with your pale ass."

A grin splits my lips. Leave it to Zeke to pull sunshine out of darkness.

"I'll be done in a minute."

We're silent then. I know he hasn't left the hall and he knows I'm still sitting on the ground, but neither of us tells the other what to do.

I take six more seconds to think about our time together in this room. We stood right here, where I'm sitting, and kissed the day of her initiation. She told me she wanted to keep her Abnegation tattoo covered. I knew she could never hide that part of herself, just as I could never wash out my scars.

Zeke pounds on the door one last time and I can hear his laugh as he walks down the hall.

It's a five minute walk from my apartment to the dining hall. I'm on Zeke's heels all the way down to the tables. Shauna is already rolled up to the same spot she was in this morning.

At least I think that was this morning.

I shake my head.

"You okay?" Zeke asks, handing me a plate.

I shrug. "Am I ever?"

Laughter echoes around us as we sit next to Shauna. She slides a plate with two slices of chocolate cake towards me. "I made sure to save you some."

Zeke throws her a look that's too distraught to be teasing. "Where's my slice?"

She nods toward the dinner line. "Go get some. And snag me a piece too, please."

He grumbles something under his breath that makes both Shauna and I laugh. I put the plate between us, stabbing one piece with my fork. "You can share mine if you want."

I've known Shauna as long as I've known Zeke. During our days as initiates I spent extra hours helping her train. She's an easy person to get along with. She doesn't look at me like I'm some Stiff who needs to loosen up. She doesn't look at me like she sees all the pain I feel. I return the favor. Her accident that robbed her of the use of her legs didn't kill her. She's still a Dauntless. She's still breathing. Legs or not I'll never look at her as if she's anyone but Shauna.

She shoves a forkful in her mouth and chews. "You know," she says around the bite in her mouth. "I can't say it around him, but…I like that you see us with a daughter."

Zeke and Christina, Caleb and Dimitri, everyone else talks to me about my simulations like they are riddles that need to be solved. Not Shauna. Shauna sees my time under the serum as a walk into another life. She's not resentful that I don't give her the ability to run. She's thankful that I give her a child.

I don't know what to say.

"What does she look like?"

Out of instinct my eyes scan the room. I don't see her. This has to be real.

"She's …uh…pretty," I say, trying to bring Mina into being with words. "She's got short sandy brown hair and big brown eyes. Pale skin… an easy smile. She doesn't talk much…"

"She sounds like Tris."

Those four words roll off Shauna's tongue and trip into my mind and set off an explosion. Mina doesn't look anything like Tris. And yet…

I'm standing and practically falling with the effort to do so.

"You okay?" Shauna says.

"Where's Caleb?"

She points toward the tattoo shop. "Last time I saw him he was working on whatever he works on in there."

I leave without an explanation, running the last few steps into the shop. The chairs and designs are still set up, but the tattoos are long since retired. Caleb has built a makeshift lab for himself amongst Tori's old supplies. He sits at a table in the far corner, scribbling notes on that electronic pad of his.

"Caleb," I say, not announcing my presence, or seeking his attention politely.

He glances up and blanches as if his name slapped the side of his face. "Tobias…what brings you by?"

"I need you to run some tests, or whatever," I say, waving my hand toward the equipment he has set up as if he should just understand what I need innately.

He blinks long lashes over eyes I miss so much. Eyes that I hadn't realized were shoved in a small little face that followed my mind around everywhere it went.

"What kind of—"

"I'm seeing her," I say, words running out of my mouth like rabid dogs towards a junk pile. "I don't know why, or how…my brain just invented a new way to see her and she's what keeps me in the dreams. Why?"

Caleb's a smart man. I'll give him that much credit.

He doesn't ease back in his chair and look at me like I'm a child he's humoring. His mind spins in circles through gears I can see behind his eyes. "And by _her _you mean—"

"Yes," I say, sparing us both the agony of her name on his lips.

He nods. "Is this a new anomaly that hasn't appeared in your simulations before?"

I shake my head. "No…she's been there all along."

He taps a small plastic stick against the screen of the electronic pad. "Who is it?" His eyes shoot up to mine. "In the dream," he adds hastily, "who is it in the dream."

"Mina."

His eyebrows meet like two halves of a bridge about to collapse back apart. "So…you think the little girl is her? Why?"

I bite back the defensive words that bubble up inside of me. He's listening to me. He's working with me. He can't supply every answer without some way to understand.

"She…she makes me feel…whole," I realize, plopping down on to a stool at the nearest work station. "Whenever she shows up, she…makes my rough edges smooth. She makes my weaknesses feel like strengths. She hears everything I don't say. And she tells me all I need to know without saying a word."

The words are rambled bits of drift wood, but he nods as if what I've said is a solidly built structure.

And then, so softly that the sound folds into the air and doesn't stick to my eardrums, he says, "that does sound like Tris."


	12. Chapter 12: One

**Chapter 12: One**

I sit on the mat at the edge of the training room, watching a sea of black clad bodies run in circles.

"Tobias," Dimitri greets me, crouching down beside me.

"Hey."

"Caleb tells me that you went to see him yesterday."

I try to add up all the hours since I sat in the tattoo shop and talked to Caleb and I can't. Dimitri says a day has passed and I take it as truth. Maybe after I talked to Caleb I finally fell asleep.

Maybe I hallucinated.

Maybe none of this is real right now.

I run my fingers along my wrist. I have the bite mark. I scan my eyes around the room. No Mina. Dimitri's cheek is clear of the scar.

This has to be reality.

"What did you two talk about?"

My head tilts toward the mat as I look at him. "Caleb didn't tell you?"

He shakes his head. "I didn't ask, but I do not believe he would have told me even if I had. He has a profound respect for you and your privacy."

A laugh catches in the sticky part of my throat and I roll my eyes. I want none of Caleb's respect.

"We talked about a theory I have for my sims. I think my mind invented Mina as a version of Tris."

He ponders this hypothesis with the kind of face that makes my muscles tighten with anticipation. He looks like a man about to jump off the side of a cliff.

"Follow me," he says.

I'm on my feet and moving toward the simulation chamber in the next moment. He grabs a box near the door and holds a syringe out to me. I take it, noticing a matching needle in his hand.

"You think me going under is the best—"

"You'll only be tagging along. Caleb tells me this is possible…yes?"

I nod. If the program in the serum we inject is geared toward his mind and his fears, I will merely be an audience. My eyes bounce around the room when all I want is to look him straight in the face and ask what I'm about to see.

"You told me once that you understand fear," he says, holding the needle against his throat.

Again, I nod. "Yes. It was my job to help evaluate and eradicate the fears of initiates."

"And the name they gave you? Four. What does it have to do with the simulations?"

My hand closes around the weapon he has supplied me with. I feel the tips of my ears turn hot. I'm uncomfortable with admitting this to him. "I only have four fears. I have only ever had four fears. It's a record low for a first time."

His lips pull into a thin line that makes me feel like the world's about to narrow around me. He injects the serum into his neck and I follow his lead.

There's a moment of comfort that eases over me. This action is the most familiar to my system. Even all the times Tris kissed me, all the times I ran laps to clear my head, injecting a fear serum into my veins is still the most liberating sensation to me.

"I truly wish," Dimitri says as the world begins to shift and bend around us, "that I had four fears."

We're standing in an open field in the middle of the night. A full moon hangs low in the sky, lighting everything like midday. My spine is wiggling like a spider slowly creeping across the floor. It's cold, but the shiver that shakes my skin has nothing to do with the air.

"Where are we?" I ask.

He doesn't say anything and for a second I'm afraid I'm stuck in another dream all alone.

And then he says, "Roza."

I don't recognize the word weighed down by his accent, but when I see a shadow moving closer to us I realize it's a name. She's short with tan skin that looks silver in the moonlight. She wears black, not unlike a Dauntless uniform. And even in the dark I can see how red her lips are.

"Dimitri," she whispers and I suddenly shrink back.

The moment is intimate and private and I move to the side to not intrude.

"I thought I would never see you again," he says in a voice that echoes the ache in my heart.

Who is this Roza?

She moves closer and I notice something strange about her mouth. It's almost déjà vu, but it's also still a mystery. I stare with inexcusable intensity as she speaks. "I told you, we can be together…forever."

She's only a foot away now and she smiles. Finally I notice the two sharp teeth that peek out from under her upper lip. I see that her skin isn't silver from the moonlight. It's pale from the lack of life. Her lips are stained red and her eyes echo the same hue.

"Vampire." I breathe the word as if a dream of a dream were passing through my lips and not a truth.

Her eyes snap to me.

"I wish it could be different, Roza," Dimitri says.

She leaps toward me with the spring of bullet leaving a gun. She's so fast I trip back and I know she'll catch me before I fall. It's unbelievable how fast she is.

Dimitri is faster.

I land on the ground as he impales a silver stake through the center of her chest. Through her heart. Blood drips on to my forehead as she seizes from impact.

"I love you," Dimitri says, slamming her body to the ground in a graceful twirl of movement.

Her body fades to black and the moonlight and the grass disappears around us. I brace myself for his next fear, realizing Dimitri has lived a far more violent life than I. I'm shocked when the lights turn on and we're back in the simulation chamber.

One.

He only has one fear.

I'm winded, drawing in deep, quick breaths like I've ran five miles in two seconds. My lungs burn. My shoulders are stiff.

Dimitri kneels in front of me, as still as stone. He watches the space on the floor where Roza died.

Where he stabbed her.

"She was a Drainer…a Strigoi wasn't she?" I ask. My skin all the sudden feels too tight. My memories tumble and lock and I just want to go back to the eating chocolate cake and not thinking about anything outside of this room.

His hand presses against the mat and his eyes close. "Yes. That is what a Strigoi looks like."

I rub a hand to the back of my neck, positive the knot that has formed there will forever remain stiff. "And…who was she?" I have a name, but I have no context.

And yet, I know the truth as profoundly as I know my own fears.

He sighs, looking at me with that same clear, stoic face he always has. "She was my Tris."


	13. Chapter 13: Heart

**Chapter 13: Heart**

His Tris.

We still sit in the simulation chamber. The doors are closed and everyone else in the Pit is still running in circles. Dimitri and I sit with our legs in front us on the mat. He's not facing me, he's not even near me, but we talk to each other.

"I've told you very little about the world I left behind," he says. My ears are suddenly thirsty men about to dive into an ocean of words. I know I'll probably drown in this information, but I can't help but sit up straighter to find out everything I can.

"Where should I begin?" He pauses, glancing at me. I shrug, but I'm sure my eyes are screaming his answer. He nods. "With her. Yes…everything begins with her."

He launches into a story about a world not so different from this new version of my own. A world where monsters live in the shadows of a blind humanity.

"Dhampirs," he explains, pointing to himself to remind me the title belongs to his kind, "are protectors, guardians of a peaceful race of vampires, the Moroi."

"There's such a thing as a peaceful creature that drinks human blood?"

A corner of his mouth twitches. "It is as real as Dauntless with a sense of humor."

I know he's speaking directly about Zeke and I figure if the Moroi are anything like my friend I can trust they aren't monsters.

"Dhampirs are trained from birth to be Guardians. We live in special schools, fighting every second of our lives."

"And that's where you met her? Roza?"

The name causes him physical harm. His mouth falls open and twists. I've never seen Dimitri lose his composure. I didn't even realize he could care so deeply about anything but killing the Strigoi.

"Rose," he says. The word is a prayer on his lips. "Her name is Rose Hathaway."

I know that last name. "Janine's—"

"Daughter," he confirms. "Like her mother, she was ferocity with a ponytail from the moment I met her. I was assigned to be her tutor. She was…much younger than me…"

My knees shift closer to my chest and I rest an elbow on them. This story sounds frighteningly familiar.

"I might have been able to resist her if I hadn't been forced into such a position with her every morning and night." His eyes watch his memories in the space around him like a serum is still running through his blood. "My entire life has been about fighting, strategy, strength. She embodied it all, challenged me to be better when I was supposed to be teaching her how to become the best."

Tingles start in my lower back and zip up my spine. Each of the five factions inked on to my back are lit up with the sensation. I'm a younger, less broken version of myself all of a sudden.

"We tried to deny it, for as long as we could."

"Because you were her teacher?"

His head shakes. "Because Guardians are to give their lives for the Moroi, not for themselves. Loving her meant weakening my ability to protect another."

I give thanks to whatever force in nature didn't deny my time with Tris due to that. And then I'm reminded, that's exactly why I lost her.

She gave her life for another.

"Did she die?" I guess, wanting to rush to the end. I feel like this story is a train that is slowing down to pick me up and I just want to be on it, speeding to the next destination already.

He closes his eyes. "I don't know."

"Was she…turned into one of them?"

Simulations weren't always based in real events. I assumed his worst fear was seeing the one he loved turned into a Strigoi and having to kill her for it. I didn't really think that she was a Strigoi.

He's quiet for a few minutes, drawing his bottom lip in and out of his mouth as his eyes dissect molecules in the air. "I don't know. She was taken captive a few weeks before we followed them here. If she was found dead in my time period…I haven't been able to find records that go that far back here."

For the first time since he walked out of a window in thin air I realize how far he traveled to be here now. Dimitri lived a life not much different than mine, but so long ago that my world doesn't even remember his anymore.

"The group that took her was from the future. Strigoi that had hidden, waited, outlasting all of our world until technology existed that could allow them to travel through time."

"I wasn't aware such technology exists."

Dark humor contorts his features. "That's because it was invented by a Strigoi…or a…what do you call them? The ones who live under the open eye?"

"Erudite?"

He nods. "Yes, an Erudite who developed the knowledge and then was bit."

My feet tap against the mat. The more I learn about the world outside this room, the more I wonder if it's out there that's a simulation and not what happens in here. My thoughts are pointy-toothed creatures trying to bite me the more I try to make sense of them. I've wanted a genesis story from him from the moment I met him. I wanted a date, a moment on the timeline of humanity where we could point to and say "that's why the evil ones arrived." But like with all other horrible things in my life I can't say when these monsters began.

They simply always have been.

"That's why you need to find the nest, isn't it?" I say, recalling the independent mission simulation that my mind created at breakfast yesterday.

"Yes. Rose was taken with five others. I don't know why. I have my suspicions, but until I find the nest I can't be sure."

I think to ask him why he's telling me this now, but I know why. When I first met Dimitri I was standing in this room, tying a rope to the rafter directly above my head. I got as far as the putting it around my neck before the hulk of a man popped through the fabric of time and space to pull me back down.

I was weak. I am weak still, but at that moment I was the weakest I have ever been. Confessions fell out of me like raindrops from the sky. I had come down from a compulsion high, drowning in the misery of a world without Tris and ready to just end everything. Ready to join her.

He saved me with two words—be brave.

He couldn't know that I had told Tris that right before she faced her first fear. He couldn't know that she challenged me with those words upon her death. He didn't know anything about me other than a wound within me couldn't heal. And he told me to be brave.

I hadn't looked for such a wound within him. I know he's a warrior. I know he was born with the skills to hunt and kill my enemy.

Until tonight I never admitted that I saw Tris in my simulations. I told him that she was what woke me up. Remembering her was the trigger that brought me back. But knowing Mina might be a form of Tris in my subconscious he sees the connection we share.

"You know it's pretty impressive," I say, waving around the room.

He cocks his head to the side with curiosity in his eyes.

"Only one fear? I've never heard of anyone ever getting down to only one fear."

"And that is …an accomplishment to you?"

I have scars on my back, callouses on my hands, I've ran a layer of skin off the bottom of my feet. He dedicated his life to protecting Moroi. I dedicated mine to eliminating my fears.

"A man without fear is a powerful force," I say.

I can see him tipping the bucket of raindrops over, realizing all of his drops of wisdoms might have been wasted on me. "No, Tobias. A man who can recognize and neutralize his fears is powerful. You are strong." I resist the urge to roll my eyes. "A man without fear is a miserable sight to behold. Fear is a natural response, chemical. It is born from the body's desire to survive. A man without fear has no will to keep living."

My eyes seek the rafter above. "I was shaking the entire I did it."

"That's because you were afraid."

"I'm not afraid of death."

"I believe that," he says. "But you weren't afraid of dying. You were afraid of letting her down. Of being weak where she had been so strong."

Damn if he's not filling that empty bucket up with drops of something new. These words are thicker than the water. They soak into my skin and course through my veins. These are drops of truth, not wisdom. Blood, not water.

He stands, pulling his long hair into a ponytail. "Come," he says, holding a hand out to me. I take it, jumping to my feet. "Time to train."

I can't stop the groan that rattles my chest. "More running?"

He laughs. "No. Today I will teach you to stake a Strigoi."


	14. Chapter 14: Fight

**Chapter 14: Fight**

I am no longer stiff.

My body coils and springs, muscles expanding and contracting on my command. Two days he's been showing me these moves. Two days of attack, focus, and strike with every ounce of strength I have.

I'm aching and sore. A flash of fire rips through my arms as I swing the silver stake toward his chest. Dimitri blocks me with his iron fists and forearms. He's a tank, a beast. The best simulation could never invent such an opponent of skill and power as Guardian Belikov.

The training room might as well be the window in time he passed through. I've stepped back to a different time. I'm sixteen and learning from Amar again. He's patient but not coddling. He explains the thought behind each move. I take logic in and process movement out. I haven't hit his chest yet, but I've come close.

"Don't waste all your energy on the strike," he says, catching my wrist in the air.

"That's easy for you to say. You have more power behind your swing."

His head shakes and a few stray hairs fall into his eyes. He's unaffected by the distraction. "The first strike must pierce, yes, but you will have a window of opportunity to deliver the kill. Don't blow all your energy at once, or you will be the one to die."

"Window of opportunity?" I ask around a heavy pant of breath. I keep spinning and lunging. He blocks every one of my moves.

He nods. "When the silver pierces the skin it shocks the Strigoi's system. Only for a moment, but a moment is all you need to readjust your footing, shove the stake in with all of your might."

His words play on my mind like puzzle pieces that I can't make fit. He speaks of the Strigoi's experience with more than just a hunter's perspective. I find it intriguing. I also find it revolting. It's the way Jeanine used to talk about the minds of those outside of her faction. It's the clinical dissection of a prey's motives and actions. I don't want to think of Strigoi as people, but they are born of people—bitten and drained and refilled with Strigoi blood.

I can't help but wonder how Dimitri knows so much about them in this way. Does he know someone who was turned?

I swing again and he catches me, again. This time instead of letting me go he tumbles me over his shoulder. The air leaves my lungs with a whoosh as my back slams into the hard black mat. I really am a kid again, sloppy, and untrained, and too eager to prove myself before learning my skill.

Laughter fills the space as two sets of feet step closer to me. I glance up to find Eddie and Janine. Eddie is the one laughing. His hands rest on his hips and I contemplate knocking his legs out from under him, but I know from experience that Dhampirs possess agility double mine own. Eddie would anticipate and eradicate my move while dealing out a new level of pain that I don't wish to feel right now.

Patience and focus. Don't waste all your energy on the strike.

Janine stands to the side of Eddie. She's tiny, smaller than Tris. Her curly red hair is cropped so short her ears stick out from the sides from her head a little. What she lacks in size, she makes up for in ability. I don't have to look to her muscles to see her strength. She carries a commanding gleam in her eyes that makes me take a step back as I get to my feet.

"You want help?" Eddie asks Dimitri.

"Are you bored with kicking everyone else's ass?" I say.

Eddie smirks. "He won't let us train anyone else."

I wipe my forehead with the hem of my shirt and hear a sharp intake of breath. Janine's eyes are drawn to the few lines of ink that curl around my waist.

"What is it with you Dauntless and those marks?" she asks, pointing boldly. "Do they represent something? Or are you all children without parents?"

A smile tugs at my lips. "Both?"

"She's asking because we have marks," Eddie says, turning around and pointing to the back of his neck.

It's an odd moment for me. I've spent months living in very close quarters with these people, but this is the first time I've spoken to them this way. The first time I've felt welcomed into knowing more about them.

I step closer, narrowing my eyes. His tattoos are small, but many. Down the center of the back of his neck is a curved line. On either side are several tiny lightning bolts that form the letter x. At the edge of each side are stars made out of larger lightning bolts.

"Promise mark," he says, pointing to the curved line. "Means we passed our classes and were granted the title of Guardian. Molnija." He points to a tiny x. "Each one represents a Strigoi kill. And Zvezda." The star. "Means we fought in a battle against Strigoi and there were too many kills to count."

More titles for things that don't apply to my world. I see these as thunder bolts, curved lines, and stars. As he explains each one I understand that these might as well be bowls filled with rocks, coals, glass, water, and earth.

I debate for a second, drawing my shirt over my head and turning around.

"Whoa," Eddie says.

I brace myself as I hear someone shift forward. I'm alright in a fight. I'm okay with letting an opponent hit me. I'm used to being hit, especially on my back.

I've only ever trusted two people with not hurting me when they touched my back. And Tori would say she hurt me with the needle.

No one moves to touch and I breathe a sigh of relief, explaining the marks the way Eddie had explained his. "The symbols of the factions. When you chose your faction you denounce an affiliation with any other. Faction above all. Faction before blood."

"You have all five," Dimitri says, looming over my side to stare down at the marks.

I nod. "I was Divergent."

"Guess we're not so different after all," Eddie says, stepping around to offer me his hand.

I stare at it for a second, unsure what he wants.

"You don't shake hands in the future?" he asks, casting a look of confusion to his counterparts.

I shake his hand and smile. "Sorry," I say, feeling an odd emotion that I don't recognize.

"So does this make us initiates or him a guardian in training?" Eddie asks, again speaking over me to Dimitri.

"Neither," he says as I put my shirt back on. "We're something new now."

I catch sight of a blur of black outfits circling the mats. Zeke waves to me as he leads the pack.

"Why aren't you training any of them?" I ask. "Zeke has better upper body strength than me and—"

"Just you," Dimitri says.

Janine and Eddie both stiffen next to me, eyes fixed on him. I can tell that Janine is older than him, but she looks to him as a leader. We all do. And he doesn't shy away from that responsibility even though he does so reluctantly.

"No pressure there," I say. I don't know if I mean it as a tease or truth. It is an enormous amount of pressure to know I'm the only Dauntless being trained to fight.

Dimitri stares at me then. His gaze is as sharp as the stake I've been swinging at his chest. I feel it pierce my soul and I have to look away. It's not a joke. He is putting pressure on me. I've been tasked with something I don't understand and he requires I take that seriously.

"That's enough training for today," he says, dismissing us with a nod.

Eddie slaps me on the back, inviting me back to the dining hall with him.

I watch Dimitri walk to the simulation chamber. Just before the doors close I see him raise a syringe to his throat.

No pressure.

The worst has already come to pass for me. I lost my Roza.

I can't let him lose his Tris.


	15. Chapter 15: Lost

**Chapter 15: Lost**

Janine and Eddie are talkative in the most surprisingly animated ways on the walk to the dining hall. The past two months have been so silent around them. Zeke has been taking bets to see who we could get to talk first.

I would never have put my money on Eddie.

Out of the four companions who followed Dimitri to the future Eddie has always been the most severe in looks. The three others are older, older than even Dimitri. They walk with reserved, confident steps and solemn expressions. Eddie is younger than me. He's twenty-four and eager. His best friend was killed by Strigoi and all those who were kidnapped were friends of his too. Without having heard this history, which he professes to me now over a bottle of beer, I still could see the hard edge in Eddie's eyes.

He reminds me of those who transfer to Dauntless with something to prove. Those who feared living lives with no purpose, or honor in their former factions. He's a child with grown up power, aching for an opponent to destroy.

We've commandeered a side table with no food and several drinks. I don't talk. Eddie never slows his words long enough to listen anyway. Eventually the room fills with black clothed figures and food is delivered to tables. I look up a time or two, see Zeke and Shauna, and Christina. None of them look for me and I don't take offense to that. My friends have spent too many years with my absence to become familiar with my presence again.

"So when he told you about Rose and the others being taken," Eddie says, his words running together with the aid of his fourth beer, "did he tell how it happened?"

It's not my place to ask these sorts of questions and I feel as though any indication to the contrary would be a betrayal to Dimitri's trust.

But I was never meant for Amity. Nor was I meant for Candor.

I shake my head, nursing the last few drops from the second bottle I've opened tonight.

"His girl," Eddie says, looking off into the distant past. "Rose. Such a good person. Such a good friend." Eddie doesn't have a grown up constitution to counter balance his mature experiences in this world. His cheeks are flush and his eyes blink rapidly. "She's best friends with the Queen of our world. She's also her Guardian. It was an ambush. They were traveling for some…stupid diplomatic thing." His lips vibrate as he rolls his eyes to indicate how pointless the trip was. "Dimitri is the Queen's consort's Guardian…Christian. He was taken too."

I'm hearing names but no context to what happened. My eyes scan the length of the tables, finding the long leather duster swooshing back and forth as Dimitri makes rounds in and out of the crowd.

"Dimitri was on duty that night, but he and Christian were across town. Christian never traveled with Lissa unless it was absolutely essential."

"For safety?"

He chokes on his next gulp of beer. "Nah," he says, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "Christian whined about being forced to go to formal events. I can't say I blame him. They're boring as fuck."

I wonder how much experience Eddie has with fucking. I didn't find it to be that boring while I participated with Tris. I open another bottle from the collection Eddie brought with him to the table and lose myself in memories of my one and only time with her.

"They came out of nowhere. I was there," he says, nodding. "I'm the Guardian to one of Lissa's, the Queen's, cousins. Adrian Ivashkov. Good dude, boring assignment. Adrian doesn't believe in getting out of bed before noon most days. I'm not saying I want to die, but protecting someone who is more likely to be in danger because they actually venture out into the world would have been nice."

I'm no longer paying attention to Eddie's rambling. He stopped making sense when dinner arrived and I've been picturing Tris naked for the past ten minutes. Nothing he says will ever be more important than the memory of her in my arms.

Then he says, "I've fought them before. I was bitten for days once by one of them. But…these were something new. I don't know what they did to themselves here in the future…or if the future just advanced them the way it advanced humankind too…but we were all helpless against them. The damn thing picked up the plane, turned it on its side with all of us on board." The image of Tris in my mind evaporates. I had no idea something could be that strong. "I think they only wanted Lissa and Adrian. I was pretty much left for dead and when I woke up I found out the three of them were gone. A week later another group showed up and took Christian and two of his friends. Dimitri was able to follow them here. He followed them to the machine and got us through, but he's never found where the hostages are."

My heart is a lead weight in my chest.

"Or if they're even alive still," he says, dropping his eyes to the table before us.

Dimitri's steps lead him to our table and Eddie's loose lips stiffen. The head Guardian seems to know what we've been talking about or maybe now I understand the same expressions he's been using for the past two months. I know why his jaw stays so squared, tensed with the guilt of not being there to protect her. I get why he doesn't talk about much. What is there to say when your world is taken from you without allowing you the chance to fight?

We're not different at all, he and I.

"Guardian Castile," Dimitri says, eyes taking in the sight of the discarded bottles with disappointment, "lights out."

For a second I see the desire to argue shine in Eddie's eyes. He's under enough influence of false confidence from the alcohol and about to forget himself.

I slap him on the shoulder. "Thanks for letting me drink and talk," I lie.

Everyone knows it's a lie. There are seven open bottles in front of us and Eddie stands as if the floor is covered in marbles. But Dimitri softens his expression and nods toward the apartments.

He doesn't take Eddie's place and I don't strike up a conversation to fill in missing gaps. I've uncovered more than enough of Dimitri's wounds the past few days. I have no desire to exploit his pain further.

His eyes roam the room, never landing on me.

I stand, ready for rest myself. I pass a few inches away from him, whispering one word in honest curiosity. "One?"

He nods.

I nod and walk to my apartment. Still the same. One fear. I don't know how that can be possible. I'm only slightly buzzed from the beer, not enough to even blur my vision. My mind is focused on one thought—one of those things upturned an airplane full of passengers.

I didn't ride in the airplane at the center. Due to my claustrophobia and a paralyzing fear of heights I know that planes would be a living nightmare for me. I do remember the machine from our time there, though. It was huge, bigger than most buildings.

Dimitri knows these things have that kind of power and he's not afraid of it. He's only afraid that she's been turned into one.

Why?

It seems heartless, it is heartless, I am a cynical, clinical, heartless asshole to consider it, but killing Rose would be the easy part. If she's been turned into a monster like that, the selfless thing to do would be to kill her.

My feet don't take me to my bed, but to the tattoo shop. Caleb sits at the same station as before. A pen tucked behind his ear and another twirling between the fingers of his left hand.

"I don't have anything for you yet," he says without looking up.

"What makes you think I'm here to ask you about the results?" I say, hands in my pockets as I lean against a chair.

He pauses, glances up, and I can see the wheels turning behind his eyes. I'm suddenly a whole new question mark at the end of a sentence he's never seen before. "O-kay. Why are you here?"

I force myself to look at his face, narrowing in on his eyes. He's nothing like her, doesn't have an inch of her in any one of his miles, but I feel like I'm being punched by her memory the entire time I look at him.

I suddenly realize that I don't know why I'm here. I'm not looking to forgive him. I don't want to remember her. Maybe I hope this is another dream and seeing him will help me see her so I can wake up.

"It's stupid," I say with a quick shake of my head. I'm to the door and turning the corner before I hear him call my name.

I keep walking. Should have gone with my first instinct and slept.

Maybe tomorrow I'll have an answer.

Maybe tomorrow I'll finally hit Dimitri in the chest.

Maybe tomorrow I won't wake up and I won't have to keep running in these circles.


	16. Chapter 16: Feast

**Chapter 16: Feast**

Morning meal.

Feet shuffle against the stone floor. Eyes are weary and puffy and talk is limited to short mumbles that resemble little authentic language.

Zeke never looks like that in the morning. He's all bright smiles and loud shouts. He's waiting for me as I enter the room, hollering that if the Russian Dictator steals me before he gets to talk to me he's starting the next world war.

I roll my eyes as I sit. "The entire compound does not need to hear all of our business."

"This isn't me making a scene," he says, dipping what looks like a biscuit into bowl of gravy. "If you kept walking to the training room I was going to make a scene."

I fill a plate with a few pieces of sausage and eggs, passing over the biscuits and gravy. "What were you going to do?"

I shouldn't humor him, but I know he just misses me.

"Throw myself into in the chasm screaming about how much it hurts that our love had to end that way."

My head already aches and I feel like my eyes are going to pop out of my skull from the amount of times they roll back into my head. "Our love?"

"What?" he says, clutching his chest with a dramatic twist to his features. "You never loved me?"

"You never even bought me dinner," I say, popping a forkful of eggs into my mouth.

"What on earth are you two talking about now?" Shauna says, rolling up to the other side of the table.

"Four is officially a slut, cheating on me with that big hunk of foreign export over there."

He says it with such honest conviction that I can't help but laugh. It's only been a few days, but I realize how much I miss talking to Zeke.

"Well thank God you have a fall back wife," Shauna says with a wink.

I look to where I know Dimitri will be standing. As usual, he's not eating, just watching. Janine, Alberta, Mikhail, and Eddie all sit at the table in the corner. Eddie's head is against the table with bag of ice on top of it.

I laugh.

"What?" Zeke says, stealing a piece of bacon off my plate.

I shake my head. They don't know Eddie. He probably would be offended to learn I'd spent any time getting drunk and hanging out with anyone but him.

"Just thinking of something Christina said to me," I lie.

I know I'm a horrible liar. It's why I prefer to just remain silent. Zeke and Shauna both look at me like I've sprouted wings.

"You talked to Christina today already?" he says around a mouthful of biscuit.

"No."

"Then when did she say what she said that made you laugh?"

"What is this, a Candor interrogation?" I ask.

He shrugs, swallowing.

I notice the seat next to Shauna is empty as if I had previously assumed Christina was here and just silent. "Where is she anyway?"

"She and a few of the others we scoping out a new delivery truck," Shauna says.

Zeke is still all of a sudden. "She's going to get hurt."

The serious tone to his voice hardens my spine to steel. "What is she doing?"

He looks to me as if he's trying to decide if this is information I need to deal with. Eggs and bacon aside, my plate is not full enough to be kept in the dark like this. "She and a few of the other recruits have been going on more than one trip a day. Apparently a packaging plant opened up a few blocks away."

"That's dangerous," I say, anger on the tip of my tongue that's not meant for anything but the idiocy of her plan.

Zeke nods, knowing I'm not angry with him. "I've told her that. Lots. But I can't argue with the results." He waves to the table and for the first time I realize we have food. Not just reconstituted grains and gruel. We have meat and bread, protein and options.

I shake my head, shoving my plate away with eating another bite. "It's not worth it. The more they venture out the more attention they draw. Not only could they be captured but—"

"The Pit could be discovered. Yeah, man, we know." He sighs the kind of sigh that reminds me that though he's quick with humor the world is not a joke to him. "I've tried to talk sense into her, Four, but you know how it is. We can only spend so much time down here, man. He's literally got us running in circles now. And for what? He's not even pursuing the sims anymore."

"He's not?"

"No. Once you stopped, he never okayed any further tests."

I consider that for a moment. "He's probably…just worried someone else will have the same reaction I did."

His eyes narrow. "What reaction?"

Damn. How long has it been since I talked to Zeke? Didn't I tell him that morning, right here, when I had an episode that shit wasn't right in my brain anymore?

"I can't switch it off," I say, my eyes are on the run from the judgment in his immediate glare. "You remember the other day? When I fell out of my seat?"

"Yeah."

The words stick to the inside of my throat, heavy and thick as I force them out. "I had a spontaneous simulation. It wasn't triggered by any serum or program, just my brain."

He's quiet then. Zeke is only quiet when something disturbs him. I glance over, seeing naked fear in his eyes.

I don't know what his fears were during initiate training. I know that he was born Dauntless. I know that I've never seen him back down from anything. He's never hesitated on a single move that I've witnessed.

Until now.

He watches me, so still, that panic begins to well inside me.

"I guess that's a good reason to stop the sims then," he finally says, returning to his breakfast.

I don't know how to take this response. I've seen Zeke laugh away worries. I've had Zeke punch me out of grief and frustration.

I've never had Zeke just shutdown.

I look to Shauna, who's looking between us with concern written all over her face. Her eyes move less and less toward me and narrow in on her husband.

And somehow I understand.

All this time he's joked about Dimitri. He's teased me about our new leader taking me away from him. And today I proved him right. I kept this secret from my best friend. Caleb knows about it. Dimitri knows about it. I would guess that the rest of the Dhampirs know about it. But Zeke had to learn about it by accident.

I open my mouth to apologize and a bloodcurdling shriek splits through the corridor.

"The net," I say, on my feet and running toward the back room just past the entrance to the dining hall.

The room used to be completely empty but for one giant net that caught all brave initiates on their first step into the compound. To become a Dauntless you must embrace the unknown and jump off the roof of a building into an abyss beneath the ground. I had to be pushed over the edge of my first day.

Tris jumped first on hers.

When we set up shop in the Pit, the hole was boarded up and the net removed. A giant gap in the ground would be easy for Drainers to find and follow. We use the space to store equipment and food, clothing, and all other supplies found during raids.

Another scream rattles my eardrums as I hit the room. I can hear someone right on my heels. I follow a bang and crash forward and to the right as another half scream echoes in the room.

"Help!"

Christina.

I run faster, ahead of anyone who has responded to the same threat I hear. I find her in the far corner, pinned against a palate of boxes of oatmeal mix. Someone…or something is holding her there. It's as tall as me, looks like a man's body from behind. His face is tucked in the nook of her neck. She beats against him, squirming, screaming.

And then, six steps away from her, I see her eyes gloss over and her mouth fall open. No more sound. No more fight. She relaxes against him and even leans her head away to give him better access to her veins.

"No!"

I rip the monster off of her and begin to pound my fist into its face. It's hard, like hitting steel encased in bricks, but I don't feel the pain.

"I wasn't going to hurt her!" It shouts, doing little to protect itself other than shielding its face with its hands. "I wouldn't have done it. I needed blood."

Needed blood? That's the defense that's supposed to stop me from beating this thing into a pulp.

"Tobias, stop!" Someone yells.

Two iron clad hands grip my biceps and haul me off of it. Eddie slips in between us, brandishing his stake…toward me.

"Don't make me do it, dude," he says, looking dead serious.

"Me?" I say, struggling against what I'm positive is Dimitri's hold on my arms. "You have the nerve to threaten me? Kill that!" I nod to the heap beneath him. "It bit her. It was going to drain her. It—"

"It's the guy I'm sworn to protect," he says, nodding to Dimitri before he turns to inspect the animal. "Adrian? You okay?"

It flinches and shakes. I hate that it too has a name. It's a monster, a demon. I saw it feed on her with my own eyes.

"Adrian," Eddie repeats, kneeling closer to the creature. "Are you okay?"

It grabs Eddie's hand, shoving him away. "Didn't we have the hands off talk your first day, Castle?"

"Castle?" I say.

Eddie flashes me a smile that quickly falls when he sees no ease my frame. "It's his version of my name." 

"No," It says. "Everyone else, including your mother pronounces it wrong."

Dimitri pulls me further back as Eddie helps it to its feet. I was wrong in my earlier assessment. It's a little bit taller than me, with a lithe frame, square jaw, and brown hair that sticks out all around its head. Its skin is paler than any living creature's should be. Dimitri told us the Moroi were all fair skinned beings, having to limit their exposure to the sun due to a natural aversion to it. This thing looks like it hasn't seen the sun in months.

I don't feel any regret as I see blood running from its nose on to its lips where it mixes with the left over from Christina's neck.

All at once I remember myself and what I broke up.

"Christina," I shove at Dimitri's hands until he lets me go.

She's seated on the floor, propped against the stack of boxes she was attacked by. Zeke in kneeling next to her and Caleb is checking her vitals. Blood oozes in a line from her neck to the collar of her shirt. You wouldn't know she was hurt from the look on her face. She stares up at the ceiling, relaxed and smiling. She looks like she ingested two loaves of Peace serum spiked bread.

"I'm fine," she says, waving me off as I squeeze in between Zeke and Caleb. "You know I've always just wanted to…" She reaches out and pinches my cheeks.

I cringe.

She giggles. "I've wanted to do that since the day we met you…well," she says, face turning stern for a second, "maybe not the first day. You were pretty scary that first day."

"What's wrong with her?" I ask, looking to Dimitri for help.

"The Moroi bite is not as strong as the Strigoi, but a level of—"

"Dope," Eddie offers.

Dimitri makes a face, but agrees. "Yes, a level of intoxicant still coats their saliva."

My stomach churns at the thought. It's to keep prey docile and willing as they feed.

"Can someone go get my kit?" Caleb shouts. "I need to get something to stop the bleeding."

"Move over," It says, and I flinch as it lays its hands on me. "Whoa, Mr. Anger Issues, my nose is more than well acquainted with your fist and I don't want any repeat visits…ever. But I can help her."

"You're the one who did this _to_ her," I shout. Dimitri grabs my collar and lifts me to my feet, putting distance between me and the monster.

"Trust him," he urges near my ear.

"Never."

"Then trust me."

That I can't argue against. Dimitri would never let something live that would harm us all. I relax and he lets go. I scowl in disgust as the thing sits on the floor in front of my friend.

Christina stares at him for a second and her face grows bright like the dawn of sunshine. "Hey, welcome back, baby." She claps her hands on either side of his face and pulls him toward her. If the thing wasn't sporting fangs and breathing because her blood was in its stomach I might laugh at how unsure it is from this. She tugs it close, slapping a sloppy kiss on its lips that makes me grimace.

It pulls back with a sharp laugh. "That's a first."

"Doesn't have to be a last," she says and I clear my throat.

"Adrian," Dimitri says. "Please close the wound."

The thing glances toward me, but to look at Dimitri. It nods and leans into her neck. I stiffen, ready to beat it off her again, but it doesn't bite. Instead its tongue swipes over the two puncture points, sealing the cuts and stopping the blood loss. Everyone around me breathes a sigh of relief, but my hands clench into fists. It sealed up her wound, yes, but it's still enjoying the taste of her blood on its lips.

"Get that thing out of here," I tell Eddie. My voice is hostile and I don't care. This is my home. These are people who trust me to keep them safe. I believe Dimitri and his companions will never hurt us, but if they house this monster it will damage that trust.

"Calm down," Eddie says, looking at me like we've only just met for the first time.

Maybe we have. He's gotten to know complacent Tobias. Now he's being introduced to protective Four. Tobias might step down and favor following and acceptance. Four will rip out his spine.

"We're all hiding under the ground like rodents so that we don't end up like that," I say, pointing to Christina. She's staring at her fingers, giggling to herself. She's not herself. She had no say if when she lost herself. "You promised to help us. To keep us safe." I turn to Dimitri. "That thing is nothing but a threat to us."

Dimitri's face is pensive and he looks to Eddie who follows some silent command.

"Come on, Adrian. Let's get you cleaned up," he says.

"I didn't mean to hurt her," it says straight to me.

I growl, every inch of me stiff and coiled with rage.

Eddie drapes its arm over its shoulders and it keeps on digging its own grave. "I was so thirsty. You have no idea. I don't know how long I've been in there, but they never gave me blood. She was the first one I found. She smelled so good. I followed her here and waited until she was alone and—"

"Stop," I say. "Or I'll be adding an x to the back of my neck."

"They only give you one of those for Strigoi kills," Eddie says. "He's not a Strigoi."

My eyes narrow and the thing flinches. Good. It should fear me. "It looks like one to me."

"Eddie," Dimitri says, "please. Janine, Alberta do you—"

"Sure thing," Janine says and she's next to Eddie in a heartbeat, helping him direct the thing toward the apartments.

Zeke picks Christina up and she lets out a high pitch squeal. "Can you spin me around?"

He laughs, breaking the tension in the room for everyone but me. "Sure, if that's what you want."

He follows Caleb to the tattoo shop, twirling Christina around, much to her delight. My blood is replaced with acid that burns through my muscles and turns my stomach inside out. I remember a day when Tris was like that. I remember wanting to rip someone's head off for robbing her of her mind that way against her will.

I will never forgive this.


	17. Chapter 17: Bite

**Chapter 17: Bite**

The room starts to clear out and I stare up at the flats nailed over the gap in the ceiling. What has happened to the world I once fell into?

"Tobias," Dimitri says, he urges me to crawl out of the bitter fog of my mind and see his reason. "Follow me?"

I've agreed to follow him so much these past two months that I cannot say no now. Every fiber of who I am screams that I should, but I can't. He takes me to the simulation chamber. Of course. Dimitri seems to only be willing to share truths within these walls that create false realities.

He waits for the doors to close before turning to me. "I will not apologize for what you witnessed."

I balk.

He holds up a hand to insist on my silence. "Eddie and Janine will question him and find out what happened. And someone… either from our camp or above will need to volunteer for daily feedings for him."

I want to throw up.

Dimitri's jaw tightens. "I've explained to you the differences in our races. It is not an evil thing that he must feed. It is a…pleasant transaction between feeder and Moroi. Quick, painless, and necessary for his survival."

"Then let's just kill him now," I say. If he has to drink to survive then not breathing seems to be the only true option here.

"Tobias—"

"No," I say, stopping him with my first _real_ words of rebellion. "I've agreed to allowing you to train my friends. I've agreed to you keeping us in the Pit like prisoners. I've never questioned your motives, nor gone against anything you've asked me to do, but this crosses a line. You keep telling me we come from different worlds and now I understand that. You come from a place where it's okay to let things live off humans. I don't."

I scrounge through the pile of discarded weapons near me and find a stake. I'll do it right now. "I don't want to betray you," I say, walking towards him, towards the door on the other side of him. "But I'm working towards getting all forms of vampires out of my world, my city, and I can't stand by and let one feed off my friends."

I take one step past him. His hand is away from his body, fingers closed around my throat, and he's lifting me off the ground.

He doesn't turn to look at me, just holds me there a foot off the ground as I squirm and claw at his grasp. "I appreciate your fear, but whatever has held him captive for the past two months also has had her. And I won't let you keep me from finding her."

He drops me and I lose my hold on the stake. Dimitri kicks it away from my reach as I gasp for breath.

"Adrian may require blood to sustain himself, but spare me the monster debate for today. You live in a cave underground that you were forced to choose to live in. You willingly leave your families, your history for the sake of becoming fearless, cruel people who beat each other without remorse. This is not monstrous?"

I rub my neck. "I thought you didn't want to debate this."

He walks away from me, hands clasped behind his leather coat. He sighs. "I suppose what I should say is that I will not defend what I and those like me are, as I do not expect you to make excuses for the Dauntless, nor the factions. You tell me I don't understand it, but it works. You tell me losing yourself in a simulation, controlling your mind with a computer helps. I am telling you now that less than a pint of blood every few days to feed him is not evil."

I can't reconcile the idea. I am rubbing my wrist, hardly comforted by the scar. His face is free of the mark I see in simulations and Mina is nowhere to be found.

This can't be real life.

"How do we tell between the two? How do we know which ones are good or bad?"

He finally looks at me then. That hard mask is replaced by a smile. It's not a happy smile. It's the kind of curve to lips that warns you're neck deep in a trap that you can't get out of. "How can you tell good humans from bad humans?"

I don't like this discussion. Dimitri has never been anything but human to me. Sure he's powerful in an unnatural way, but he's not one of them.

"I am one of them," he says, plucking the thought from my mind like he's attached to me through a serum. "I don't require blood, but I have their blood and their genes in the makeup of my body. I am more like them than I am like you. My mother was a Dhampir and my father was a Moroi. I am not human." He folds his arms over his chest. "Am I now your enemy too?"

He expects me to say no. He thinks he's got the logical part of my mind figured out. He doesn't know about my past. He doesn't know what my four fears were. He has no idea that I lived for sixteen years with the most monstrous human he could ever imagine.

I don't think he's my enemy.

But I know I can no longer trust him.

"If you want it to feed then you and your kind will have to find willingly candidates from above. Don't force any of my people to do it. We all ran away from that kind of treatment above. We won't tolerate it down here too."

I turn on my heel to leave.

I'm at the door when I feel the air whoosh around me. Suddenly Dimitri is right next to me. His arm blocks my exit. "Call him Adrian," he says. I glare at the wrinkles in the arm of his coat. "He might not be human, but he is a person. He has a name. I will not let him feed on any of your people, if you call him Adrian."

I nod, shoving him out of my way.

I make my way to the tattoo shop. Caleb is back at his usual post, going over information that would make my eyes cross with my level of frustration right now. Zeke and Shauna sit near the door, talking. Christina is passed out on the first chair to the left.

"How is she?" I ask the room at large, knowing someone will answer me.

"Stoned as hell, but fine," Zeke says. He leans forward in his chair, resting his elbows on his knees. His hands wring in the air. "So…did he say what that was?"

I'm taken back to the moment right before all this started, to when I realized Zeke was hurt by my lack of communication. Again he's tiptoeing around this, not wanting to make waves over my partnership with Dimitri.

"He claims it's a good one."

"Good one?" Shauna says with a scoff. "How can anything that does that be good?"

Dimitri's defense is on the tip of my tongue and I flick it against the roof of my mouth as I shake my head. "I don't know, but he wants to keep it alive to find out where it was being held."

"Being held?" Zeke asks. "You mean…it was a prisoner of the even badder ones?"

I don't point out that badder isn't a word, but launch into a retelling of Dimitri's fear landscape and the discussion that followed it. It's a violation of Dimitri's trust, but he already disintegrated mine. Besides, it's just Zeke and Shauna.

"For all intents and purposes he's right," Caleb says.

I stiffen. And Caleb. Zeke and Shauna…and Caleb now know Dimitri's secrets. He's been so quiet in the corner I forgot he was there.

"Who's right?" Shauna asks.

"Dimitri," Caleb clarifies. "From what I witnessed, Adrian didn't take much blood. And he only fed, didn't…kill her. Christina was pretty pleased from the exchange. By the end."

By the end.

"And the end always justifies the means, doesn't it?" I say, words puffing from my lips like smoke from a diesel engine. Memories that I try to erase flash fresh and hard in my mind. Caleb tortured his sister at Janine's request, for the sake of science. He punctured her sanity to unlock the mystery of her divergence.

He's one human I would call a monster.

His skin has gone as pale as the vampire's was in the cargo room. His eyes are wide with surprise. "I…I…," he stammers.

"Don't think because I asked you to figure out what _you_ did wrong to _my_ brain that that means I've forgotten everything you've done."

He nods, returning to his work, head down, and bottom lip between his teeth.

Zeke kicks my foot and gives me a look.

"She was screaming for help," I say, jogging the memory of everyone who suddenly seems so eager to defend the snake that bit our friend. "She was fighting him. Just because her biology responded to a chemical in his spit doesn't mean she enjoyed it at all."

My muscles strain and I look away. I'm thankful my friends know me, the real me. They know the guy so angry at the world he has no nice words or actions left to give.

"So what's the deal then?" Zeke says, easing back in his seat. "What do we do now?"

I put my faith in a man I didn't understand and now we are a meager bunch clinging to the shadows again. "I don't know," I say with a shrug. "I don't know what his plan is. I don't know if this will be something we should follow once…if he chooses to share it with us. I know he's trained me to kill them, but I don't know why he refuses to let any of the rest of you to learn."

Zeke's cheeks puff as he blows out a breath. "So…we wait. The four…" He glances back to where Caleb is and narrows his eyes. "Five of us will become a new version of Divergent. We'll play his game. Say yes to his demands and figure out how to break free. From all of it."

I glance between him and Shauna, looking to Christina's sleeping face, and finally to Caleb. He looks terrified and I don't know if I can trust him. Frankly at this point I don't care. If he tells Dimitri what I've said and what we're planning I'll finally have the motive to end him.

I nod. "Agreed."


	18. Chapter 18: Play

**Chapter 18: Play**

I go to the training room for the remainder of the day. I'm swinging blows at a dummy in a center ring when Eddie joins me. He's dressed for sparring, holding a rubber stake in his hand.

I almost laugh.

Eddie is shorter than me, younger than me, smaller than me in every way imaginable. He honestly thinks he's going to overpower me so easily he needs a fake weapon?

"You ready?" he says.

I'm not able to fully respond before he attacks. He might be smaller but he's every bit as solid as Dimitri. His legs cut under me and I move out of the way a fraction of a second before he trips me. I'm dodging and weaving, at times retreating and using the dummy to block his blows.

This isn't like my training with Dimitri. He walked me through the steps patiently. He blocked and defended, but never attacked. Eddie is relentless. He comes at me from every side, over and over. I quickly forget everything Dimitri taught me, reverting back to my Dauntless training. I get in a few hits to his side, but since he hardly flinches and my entire arm feels like it's on fire I know punching him won't win this fight.

He crouches low, tossing the rubber stake between his hands. My palm has grown sweaty and I hold my silver stake with white knuckles. His breaths are even and measured, mine are wild and frantic.

"All you gotta do is say "uncle"," he says. "I'll stop if you give up."

I laugh. I don't know how I pull enough air into my lungs for it, but I laugh. I put my weight on my toes, relishing the spike of adrenaline that flows through my veins. He wants an all-out fight? I'll give him an all-out fight.

I throw my stake down, charging at him. He thinks he's learned my technique, but he's wrong. I, on the other hand, have noticed though he has impressive strength he has only one offensive move. As he leans in for the same strike he's given me five times before, I spin, launching my leg in the air and connecting my boot with his face, using not only my force, but his speed to deliver the blow.

He's on his back then, stunned. The rubber stake is on the floor next to his hand, but he doesn't have a chance to reach it. I plant a boot on his throat and on the other on the wrist closest to the stake. Blood runs to his lips as a black bruise spreads over his nose.

"Uncle," I say, shoving my boot hard against his throat before I step away.

"Shit," he says, sitting up. He's not gasping for air, and other than the bruise I can't tell that's he's affected at all by what I did. "Where'd you learn to kick like that?"

"I run," I say.

He nods, retrieving his stake. It's an odd moment. Though we are sparring and in a training room, he seems as casual as if we were sitting at the table getting drunk again. He's not fazed by the pain, or even the violence. And I realize, just like the Dauntless, he's been conditioned to accept it.

"My friend Mason used to be good at hand-to-hand. I'm more an overpower-and-pray-for-the-best kind of dude."

I don't know a nice way to tell him I'm not interested to hear this. I'm still mad about the thing…Adrian's appearance. Eddie was ready to kill me to protect it…him. I want no part of a friendship with this man.

I adopt the look of indifference that kept me alive during my days here before Tris. "I noticed," I say.

I put the dummy and the silver stake away, all the while being tailed by Eddie as if he is a lost child and I'm some parental looking person.

"You wanna go grab some dinner?" he finally asks.

I don't. I'm not hungry and even if I were I would not _want_ to eat with him. Even so I nod and follow him to the dining hall. Shauna is carrying baskets of bread to the tables when we enter. I want to volunteer to help her, half tempted to just go straight to the kitchen and learn how to cook, anything to get away from sitting down with Eddie.

I freeze as we approach the table he's selected for us. The thing…Adrian is sitting there, waiting for us.

"I should have let you stab me," I say.

Eddie laughs, slapping my shoulder. "He's not a bad guy. I promise."

What Eddie fails to understand is that I don't see him as a guy at all.

"Hey, Adrian," Eddie says, pulling out the chair directly across from it…him.

It…Adrian glances up. It…he doesn't look as pale now. Color has infused into its…his lips and cheeks. Its…his eyes are sharper and yet something distant still glosses over them as it…he stares at Eddie.

"You're hurt," it…he says.

Eddie sits, shrugging a shoulder but it…Adrian is undeterred. It…he reaches over and lays its…his hand over Eddie's nose. The air grows warm around us and it…Adrian closes his eyes in deep concentration.

"Should you really be doing this?" Eddie says, his voice distorted by its…Adrian's hand.

A few seconds pass and it …Adrian releases a shaky breath, opening his eyes, and pulling his hand back. "Damn," it …he says. "I cleaned it up, but couldn't heal it all the way. Sorry."

Eddie shrugs. "No worries, dude. You shouldn't have tried at all. You're weak. You need to rest."

I don't understand the exchange. I want to walk away and not understand it. But my curiosity gets the better of me.

I sit next to Eddie without waiting for an invitation or requesting one myself.

It…Adrian blinks rapidly as it… he sees me.

"Adrian," Eddie says, waving between us, "this is Tobias Eaton. He's …kind of in charge of this place."

It…he keeps blinking with no words to say.

With the mention of Eddie's injury I realize its…Adrain's face is free from all damage today. "You heal fast."

"Yeah," it…he says, eyes shifting from side to side. "But don't think that's an invitation to start kicking my ass again. Castle will be happy to let you beat the shit out of him. As I'm guessing you already did."

My eyes wander over to Eddie and I'm stunned to find the bruise gone from his face. I can tell the bone is still broken from the way he breathes through his mouth and limits the movement of his upper lip.

"You do that?"

Eddie nods. "Yeah. He's…gifted." He gives it…Adrian a look that conveys an understanding out of my reach.

It…Adrian rolls its…his eyes, unleashing an exaggerated sigh. "Burdened with superior talents, it's true."

I recognize false bravado when I see it. I wear the same sarcastic exterior around my own pain. Anger flares in my gut. I want no part of relating to this animal.

"Questions," It…Adrian asks, holding up two fingers. "One, if you're in charge why is Belly-cough walking around like he's Stalin. And two, where are we?"

Eddie laughs in his throat. "Belly-cough?"

"I'm running low on steam and my insult generator is barely reaching juvenile levels at the moment," It…Adrian says.

"I don't understand," I admit, my temper simmers closer and closer to boiling with each word it…he mutters.

"Dimitri," Eddie tries to clarify and I'm still confused. "His name…Belikov. Adrian is—"

"Failing miserably at winning you over with my subtle charm and deprecating nature," It…Adrian finishes. His words are mocking but his expression is severe. What an odd combination for the same face.

"I harbor no kind feelings for the Russian general, stalking the night in his leather cape of heroic bastardness."

I wonder if anyone else finds talking to this creature as exhausting as I already do. It…Adrian is a pure Candor, I realize. All words and talk but no real meaning.

My eyes roam from the table as Eddie explains our location and the basic structure of our sub society we've created. I catch sight of Zeke and Shauna. They're smiling and chatting, enclosed in their happy couple bubble that at times makes me sick to my stomach. His eyes bounce to me only once, and no longer than it takes for him to blink, but I know he's aware of what I'm doing. I'm reminded of our conversation earlier today.

I turn back to my companions to play my part, officially deciding to follow Dimitri's request. I will call this thing Adrian.

"No shit?" Adrian says. "We're in the future? Are there flying cars? Do you know if they ever saved the clock tower?"

I realize he's talking to me and I scowl. "What clock tower?"

Eddie laughs. I don't believe I've ever heard him half as happy as I have since Adrian showed up. "It's from a movie." He speaks to Adrian. "I don't think they have movies anymore, man."

I don't recognize the term. I know what moving is. I know of motion. I assume, based on the context of the conversation, that we are discussing a recording of some sort of motion.

Adrian seems distraught by the loss of these movies and turns desperate eyes on me. "Please, for the love of everything good in the world, tell me that you still have alcohol."

Eddie laughs deep from his belly, nearly falling out of his seat.

I nod. "Yes. We still have that."

Adrian's fingers grip the front of his hair, eyes closing in silent pray. "Good. I was just about ready to give up on humanity for fucked up priorities there."

I decide accepting that he has a name and is possibly a person still doesn't endear Adrian to me.

"Waiter," he calls when someone walks past the table.

I look over my shoulder and find Caleb, carrying a basket of bread. He stares at Adrian as if the man has grown two extra heads. I nearly laugh.

"Is there something you need?" Caleb asks.

"Two bottles of your strongest, nastiest liquor," Adrian requests. "I mean I want to forget I have a tongue two sips in and possibly end up losing a foot after I've finished the second bottle. Can you hook me up?"

Caleb looks as confused as I feel and continues to stare at our guest like he's speaking another language.

"I think he wants some alcohol," I suggest. "Please." I add the last for the sake of those around us. I don't care to be polite to him, but having already broken the nose of both of the guys at the table I realize I should make some amends.

Caleb hands me the basket of bread and grumbles something under his breath as he heads in the direction of the kitchen.

"Not the best service I've ever had, but it's still better than that one place in Guam."

I put the basket on the table, rubbing my head. Adrian has already given me a headache and the more he speaks the less I understand.

"Why were you in Guam?" Eddie asks, seeming to be genuinely curious about it.

I have no idea what Guam is. Every word out of their mouths is a variable that I can't solve with my limited equations.

Adrian grabs a piece of bread, frowning. "Why wouldn't I have been?" His eyebrows rise as he turns his attention back to Eddie and the younger man laughs. Again.

I decide I can't stand Eddie's laughter.

I take a piece of bread. "I harbor no kind feelings for Caleb," I say, trying to relate my circumstance with Caleb to his with Dimitri, "but he is not at your service. This is not an Abnegation banquet. He was walking to his table to eat."

Adrian blinks and suddenly I am in possession of the bounty of foreign words at the table. "A what-the banquet and if he's not our waiter who is?"

Eddie opens his mouth and before he has the chance to speak or laugh I continue. "Abnegation, the selfless and servitude faction. You have not entered their realm here. You're in the Pit, Dauntless territory. Here we have two hands that we use to provide for ourselves, or we use them to dig our way out to the Factionless wasteland."

Cruel words spew from me like oil from a well under the earth. Not since my days under Eric's command have I been so willingly mean to a stranger. I find strength in such detached hatred. It's disgusting, I hate myself for it, but I can't stop it.

"No one will wait upon your desires. No one will serve you here."

I'm done with the play tonight. I shove my chair back, ignoring Eddie's protests and run into something as I stand.

Christina staggers away from me, eyes wide, and nostrils flaring. I see no reason to question or calm her, stepping to the side to allow her to launch her anger at the source.

"You!" she says, throwing the chair I just vacated out of her way.

The entire hall stops, every voice silenced, every breath held tight as all eyes turn to watch the display. Dimitri is only a few feet from me and he eyes me with disappointment. I don't care. She was attacked. Dauntless rules give her the right to air the grievance.

"I apologized," Adrian shouts.

I step further away as Eddie tries to wedge himself between Christina and a retreating Adrian but she's too small and quick to be caught. She leaps on to the table throwing bread rolls at Adrian's head.

"I don't care what you say. And you haven't _begun_ to feel sorry. I'll make you feel sorry." Adrian runs down the aisle between tables and she follows chase down the center of the table, snatching more bread baskets as she goes. "I'm not a piece of meat for you to eat whenever you want. None of us are! If you want to be a savage animal you can go back upstairs and live with the monsters."

He's reached the end of the tables and Eddie has scrambled up behind her, trying not to trip as all the Dauntless seated suddenly find the desire to reach for everything in front of them. Christina has one last roll in her hand, perched at the last inch of table beneath her. Adrian stands with his hands held high in the air, true terror on his face.

Against my control I laugh.

"I swear," he says, eyes darting back and forth frantically. He raises the volume of his voice to address the entire room now. "I didn't mean to attack this," he pauses to take in the sight of her and shakes his head, "beautiful, determined, and obviously well trained in the art of throwing stuff, woman. I will not drink from anyone without their express consent." He puts a hand over his heart, dropping the pretentious tone to his voice. "I swear to you all. I have no desire to hurt anyone. I will starve before I hurt anyone of you again."

Many voices mumble, a few heads around me nod. I cross my arms over my chest and frown. Christina tosses the last roll and it hits him square in the face. Adrian stands there and takes it. He even tells Eddie to stand down when the Guardian gets close to her.

She jumps off the table and walks straight to him and I imagine her face is fierce from the way Adrian shrinks with each step she takes. She says something so softly to him that I can't hear and my feet finally decide it's time to intervene. Though in truth I'm just too curious not to listen in.

"Stop this," Dimitri says, grabbing my elbow.

I stare down at his hand then his eyes. I'm all out of reasons to make things right.

He lets go and I join the duo at the end of the room.

"I'm sorry," Adrian is saying over and over as I step next Christina.

She's not speaking, just watching him with those Candor eyes of hers.

"Enough," I say, offering Christina a sympathetic look.

She nods and leaves.

Adrian's mouth falls open. "That's it?"

Eddie is at his side with one of his obnoxious laughs. "What, did you want her to actually kick your ass?"

Adrian cocks his head to the side with a half frown on his lips. "Maybe."

I don't know where the desire comes from but I'm suddenly explaining my word, my friend's actions, and offering a monster hope. "Christina's from the faction of Candor," I say. "She believes in honesty above all other actions. Something you said to her was true enough that she forgave you."

His eyebrows touch his hair line and that the arrogance that turned my stomach at the table returns. "See, Eddie," he says, slapping his friend's shoulder. "I told you one day I'd become an honest man."

Eddie's eyes search the ceiling and return to Adrian's face. "That's not what you said. You said you believed Rose was the one woman who could make an honest man out of you."

The words leave Eddie's lips with humor but the air sucks back into his lungs with a sharp gasp. Adrian groans and my mouth pops open with shock. I don't repeat the name. I don't have to. Out of the corner of my eye I see Dimitri. His arms are locked over his chest and his face is stern enough to break the hardest soldier.

All at once the world changes around me again. I'm not just standing between three beings of another species than mine. I'm trapped between two men who cared for the same woman. I don't know the extent of Adrian's feelings, but I do know Dimitri's. I know what he's told me about the limitations of a relationship between them. My heart quickens to match the speed of my thoughts and I remember something even more damning about Adrian than the two pointy teeth in his mouth.

He was with Rose when she was taken.

I understand Dimitri's determination to keep him around now.


	19. Chapter 19: Mouth

**Chapter 19: Mouth**

A few days pass and I walk through each minute in the same gray haze. I've had dreams…simulations…hallucinations (I don't know what to call them anymore) a few times in the nights. It's always the same thing.

I awake to the sound of a baby crying. The room is so dark that I'm not sure if there is no light, or if I've gone blind. I stumble toward the noise, falling over something solid and cold. When I find the child, I hold it to my chest, rocking it and shushing it. Light breaks through the darkness just enough to show the child's face. Warm brown eyes gaze at me with trust and ease. When my eyes drift away from the child, I see what I tripped over. She's frozen and stiff, eyes open and vacant.

Tris.

Dead.

The sight brings me back to my world, back to a true wakefulness that shakes inside my bones. I'm jittery and explosive for the remainder of those days.

Eddie still trains with me, sometimes without warning. He likes to hide around corners, behind boxes, or even in plain sight. Before I realize what's happening a rubber stake flies towards me and I react.

I'm learning. My feet know more how to move like him. My body sways with the same agile motions he displays. He's not picking up on my more aggressive moves, and I've begun to realize he never will. Eddie is a machine that has been built for one goal. He knows how to attack and end a Strigoi.

He's been taught to use his body as an extension of his stake.

I have been molded into an instrument of pain.

I look for weakness in every opponent, whether I am to fight them or not. He is only interested in keeping his Moroi safe from harm.

Janine and the others sometimes pass us, offering supportive suggestions to whichever of us is pinned on the ground at the moment.

Zeke yells obscenities as he runs in circles around the ring with the other Dauntless.

And Dimitri…is nowhere to be found.

This morning I find myself sparring with Janine while Eddie watches. Adrian sits beside him, scowling at something in the air no one but he can see. I haven't asked anyone for details about what Eddie said, but I find myself more and more accepting of his presence with the promise of answers eventually. Eddie says he has "mood shifts" that cause him to act like he is today. I believe it has more to do with lack of entertainment for his pampered expectations.

"You've got some force with those arms, don't you?" Janine says.

I flex my biceps and keep circling around, waiting for her to strike. I like her technique. She's a true warrior. She waits for me to move first and always finds the weakness in my delivery. Always. She's tiny, but lethal.

She reminds me so much of Tris.

Images flutter through my mind when the light hits her face just right. I'm drawn back to the fears in Dimitri's head. Rose is a whisper blanketed over her mother's body. She looks nothing like her. The woman who haunts Dimitri is taller with skin much tanner than her mother's. She has long dark hair with a wave that might have been because of the curls that adorn Janine's head. But those features are not what remind me her daughter when I see Janine. It's the way she moves. Rose's eyes narrowed in the same way when she stalked my steps. Her shoulders lowered just before she pounced. Her fingers even curled with the same motion. More than one time my jaw stings because Janine took advantage of me getting lost in Rose's reflection.

Why do I get the feeling the young Ms. Hathaway is good at distracting all men who see her?

"Shift change," Alberta says, stopping near the mat.

Janine nods and drops her arms to her sides. She bows to me and I'm at a loss for how to respond.

"It's an ancient show of respect to your opponent," Eddie says, seeming to understand my lack of response.

I mirror her movement, though I believe I show my respect whenever she knocks me upside the head and I get back up for more.

"It was…refreshing to spar with you, Tobias," she says, following Alberta to the apartments.

Eddie snorts once they are out of earshot. "Was that a insult or a backhanded compliment?"

I scratch the side of my neck and shrug. "I'll take it as a compliment."

"Compliments…refreshing…respect…empty. All words that are so empty. Tea pots with no water, but everyone holds their pinkies in the air as they drink," Adrian says.

We both look to him and I see Eddie brace himself for something I don't understand. I've been around plenty of mentally unstable people in my life. I find myself to be one of them. I know the look of someone who is responsible for one already gone. I see that look in Eddie's face.

"I told you not to do it," Eddie says. His words are hushed and I know I'm not meant to hear them. My ears strain all the same.

A light laugh is on Adrian's lips, along with more inane babble. "She needs substance. She needs roots. She can fly." He smiles, seeing those invisible sights again. "She soared over everyone that day."

"Dude, stop. You gotta turn it off. You're weak and it's only going to take over stronger if you don't turn it off right now."

I drop the façade of pretending not to hear and step closer. "What's he doing?"

Eddie sighs, keeping his eyes on Adrian. "It's part of his gift."

"No, no, no, no," Adrian is saying, face planted in his hands. "I didn't mean to fill the bathtub. I…I only wanted to see how she flies. I need substance. For her."

"Who is her?" I ask. I know I'm as a clueless as an initiate on his first train jump, but I'm not stupid. Adrian healed the bruise on Eddie's face with this magical gift of his. If he's tapped into it somehow now and Eddie is worried about it I need to know everything I can to help keep everyone around him safe.

Eddie stares at Adrian so hard I'm surprised the man doesn't catch on fire. "Christina."

My eyes grow wide with shock and fear and Adrian is talking before I can speak. "She's even more beautiful when you see it, Castle. I'm in awe. Can't turn it off, because I…I want to see it again."

"What does …what's he…?" I grab Adrian's shirt and haul him off the ground, forcing him to look at me. "What are you doing to Christina!" 

My voice echoes off the walls and Eddie's on his feet shushing me even though we're alone in the training room now.

Adrian hangs limply in my grasp. His eyes scan over my face again and again. "Wow," he whispers, "you're pitch black."

Eddie's hands are around mine, urging me to let Adrian go. I do. His words unsettle me. "What do you mean that I'm pitch black?"

Adrian's a miserable heap on the ground, hands over his face as his head moves back and forth.

I look to Eddie and he tries to explain. "He sees…what is it?" Adrian groans, but doesn't supply an answer. "Your inner you…your essence."

My mind understands his explanation but my entire being doesn't want to acknowledge it. Adrian can see into my soul and he sees total darkness?

"Gonna go take a nap," Adrian says, shoving to his feet and shuffling from the room without waiting for a response from either of us.

Eddie shoots me an apologetic look and follows him.

I'm alone in the training room. I don't know what time it is but I notice the lights that lead down the slope have already been shut off. Dusk must be approaching.

Another day comes to an end.


	20. Chapter 20: Things

**Chapter 20: Things**

I forgo dinner to head straight to my apartment, taking a shower with mostly freezing water. Warmth is a luxury that I don't find I deserve much these days. When I'm surrounded by warmth I miss Tris the most. My bed had been cold before her. My showers freezing. My skin frigid.

I dry off and slip on a pair of boxer shorts and fall into bed face first. I breathe in and out until the blankets and mattress beneath me make it too difficult to draw in enough air. I roll to my side, reaching for the salve I keep on the nightstand. It smells of mint and stings my skin as I rub it over my sore muscles.

I'm only twenty six years old, but my body acts as if I've aged that many years three times over. Maybe I have. I have lived the life of three different people inside my mind. A son desperate to break free, a lover yearning to be whole, and whatever I am now. Maybe I age like a dog now, each year the world turns equaling three years for my body.

I lie back on my single pillow, leaving my covers bunched at the foot of my bed. The room is dark, but not so dark I can't see the words etched into the wall. I close my eyes as they touch God and fall quickly into sleep.

I expect the nightmare to return. I wait for the cry of the baby to split through the darkness that surrounds me, but all I hear is silence. I am aware that I am asleep, aware that I'm not really sitting in a dark room when suddenly I'm standing in the middle of a garden. I feel as though I'm back on base, outside the wall, in the courtyard that stood at the center of Hell.

Plants and flowers I don't care to know the names of are scattered all around. I hear water running, birds chirping, and the faint thump of feet against grass.

I tense as the footsteps get closer. My fist flies, propelled by paranoia that is second nature in my dreams now.

"Whoa," Adrian shouts, throwing his hands up.

I drop my fist to my side. "What are you doing here?"

He peeks through the cracks between his fingers. "Is that your one base response? Bash someone's face in and _then_ ask them questions."

I pop the knuckles on my right hand with my thumb and say nothing.

Adrian sighs, dropping his hands as he flops onto a bench that wasn't previously beside me.

"Where did that come from?" I say, kicking the side of the bench.

"I wanted to sit down," he says, as if that answers any of my question.

He leans forward, elbows resting on his knees as he contemplates the scenery. "Do you think she likes roses?"

My mouth opens and closes. I'm a fish on land, needing to return to the ocean to breathe. "Answer _my_ question first."

"I'm in your dream," he says, using the tone of voice an adult would with a child. "I figured that much was obvious."

A dream? So this is a dream. I touch a flower near me. It feels real. My finger wanders to my wrist. I don't have the scars here.

"Now," Adrian says, hopping up from the bench with a clap of his hands, "what do you think her favorite flower is?"

His face is so serious, hard lines etched in his forehead as he waits for my response.

"Who?" I ask.

"Christina."

My first instinct is to laugh. In my world only the Amity care for such nonsense as pretty plants. Christina had no use for such ornaments in Candor and the Pit has no use for decorating anything but the flesh of a Dauntless soldier.

But my mind has some need for this simulation and where I have always resisted knowing I'm not in reality before I have been gifted with the realization at the start. I look around the garden for something that says her to me. "None of these," I say with a definitive shake of my head.

I walk down the path between several trees that lean and bend over head like canopies. A sound draws me further and further to the center of the garden. It's a soft, gentle tinkle of noise. It's innocence and sweetness, a sound I've never heard before. The path clears and a small gazebo sits five feet in front of me. I look to the roof of the structure, locating the source of the sound.

"It's a wind chime," Adrian says as I inspect the device.

Two long and two shorter pieces of metal tubes are strung into a circle with three tiny chains hanging between them. At the end of the chains are different objects fashioned out of the same metal as the tubes. One is a sun. One a moon. And one I do not recognize.

"What is this?" I say, holding up the symbol. It's a circle one half black, one half white. The halves are not split down the middle but curve like inverted quotation marks shoved together. In the larger portion of the white sits a black dot. In the largest section of the black sits a single white dot. A mirror of opposites.

"Yin and Yang," Adrian says, as if this explains anything to me.

My thumb runs over the line that separates the two colors. "She would like this," I decide.

"Seriously? You sure she wouldn't like a flower or a some perfume or—"

I yank the symbol from the flimsy chain that holds it. "She's from Candor, black and white is…sort of their thing."

He takes the object from me, turning it over in his hand and sighs. "Thanks."

The air shifts around us and I notice the tune of the tubes as they strike together is slightly different now that the circle in Adrian's grasp is missing. He slips the disk into his pocket, flopping down on the step of the gazebo with like a pile of discard laundry.

Of all the simulations I've witnessed since that day in the cafeteria in high school, this is the oddest. I'm aware but I'm not in control. I don't know how I know, but I this world is not of my making. I don't believe it's true compulsion. Though I don't remember what being compelled was like in my mind, I know that awareness is not possible.

"You ever fall in love?" Adrian asks.

I search the space around us for who he must be talking to, it can't be me.

He glances up and I curse under my breath.

I focus my eyes on the wind chime, nodding once. I'm not in the mood to share Tris with anyone, least of all this person I'm trying to forget has fangs.

"Damn."

The pure desolation in the tone of his voice as it wraps around that word sparks my curiosity. "Have you?"

His shoulders move up and down. "Dunno. I thought I had. I haven't been a stranger to affection, but _love_ I don't know if I've really felt that."

Something in the way he says it, the way the sides of his eyes pinch in and his lips thin out, tells me he has. This is not a subject I wish to talk to anyone about. I had a hard enough time expressing emotions to Tris—in even allowing myself to _feel_ those emotions for her. I know this isn't really Adrian. We're not really in a garden. He's not asking me about gifts for Christina and I'm not biting back all the secrets I hold just under the surface of my skin.

I slide down onto the step next to him. My hands rest palm up away from my knees and my eyes travel the lines etched into my palms. "Have you ever…felt like every nerve in your body was controlled by someone else?"

He shifts, sprawling his long legs out in front of him. His arms cross over his chest and he stares down at the ground with a pout to his lips, the ends of his messy brown hair touching his eyelashes. "What like…a living breathing game board of Operation?"

"No," I say, not understanding a single word he said.

"Then let's circle the explanation one more time," he says, twirling a finger in the air before returning his hand to his chest.

I think about Tris. I think about those first moments after meeting her. The way her eyes burned my flesh. The way electricity blanketed her form. The skin on my arms pebbles at the memory. I was out of my mind, out of my will to fight it. And then after the first time she touched me. The first time our lips connected…

I was out of my body.

She'd tighten her fist and every muscle in my body would grow taut. She'd hold her breath and I'd gasp for air.

"It's nothing I can explain. If you've felt it, you would know."

Silence surrounds us then. Well, a silence of our words. The trees still dance in the wind, birds still sing in the distance, and water still runs from some place I can't see.

He retrieves the symbol from his pocket, tossing it in the air. "She would be one of those ideas over things kind of girls, wouldn't she?" His question is rhetorical to my ears so I reserve a response. "I'm good with things. I could get her a billion things." His thumb traces the white dot surrounded by black in his hand. "I'm not so good with ideas."

I want to laugh. Whatever is fueling this dream puts too much faith in my weak strengths and plays upon my enemy's vulnerabilities. Other than the occasional mood swing when he makes little sense, I've only ever seen Adrian strut around the Pit with an arrogant confidence. Even when I told him he was no one special, and Christina threw bread at his face, he held his head up high as if he were the most important person in the room.

But this Adrian?

This Adrian is practically human.

All at once the garden grows darker, the chimes over our heads batter against each other, no long making music but now seeming to sound the alarm to look for shelter. I'm cold. My breath travels from my lungs and hangs in the air for a second before evaporating.

"Aw damn," he says, tucking the black and white circle in to his pocket. "Didn't mean to make this a conference call. You better go. He doesn't want anyone knowing he's questioning me like this."

Before I can ask what he means, who is questioning him, my eyes pop open and I'm lying on my back in my bed. The word "Fear" comes into focus first and I sit up. I came out of that one without Tris. None of it makes sense.


	21. Chapter 21: Moment

**Chapter 21: Moment**

I sit on the floor, talking to Zeke as he cleans the gears in Shauna's chair. She's on the floor next to him, handing him parts as he asks, volunteering her opinion in the middle of our conversation without an invitation.

It's a Sunday morning. I don't know why I'm aware of the day of the week. I haven't cared to know the names of days or months, or even years for a very long time. I just know today is Sunday. The one morning of the week that the Dhampirs rest.

"Caleb any closer to figuring out your brain?" he asks, handing a tool to Shauna.

I shake my head. "I don't know. I haven't been by to see him lately."

"What about Dimitri?" He tightens a screw near the base of the seat. "Anyone even seen that scowling bastard in the past week?"

Shauna and I both tell him no. I search the walls of Zeke's apartment for the familiar words and realize he's hung a painting over them.

"You don't fear God alone?" I tease.

He snorts, fiddling with a spring for the right wheel. "I fear God in the hands of crowds much more than I do alone. Alone I think he would join me for a beer and we'd hit it off."

"Only you would take God to a bar," Shauna says with a laugh.

I smile. It's a tight pull of my lips, but the emotion behind it is easy. "Zeke would probably take God on the tour of all his favorite sins and high five him as they committed each together."

Zeke throws his head back and laughs. "I do believe you're right. And I'd expect you to come with us."

Like I'd have a choice.

I watch them work together, allowing myself to feel the ache in my chest. What would life be like now if Tris and I had had time to become a team? I never understood her mind. I understood how she thought, but I always running to catch up to figure out what she was thinking. Shauna anticipates Zeke's needs, placing the right ratchet in his hand before he even asks. Would Tris and I have become like that? Or would she have remained a mystery I spent every day unraveling.

One sharp knock on his door announces Christina's arrival. She drops on to the ground beside me, legs kicked out and palms against the floor behind her.

"What, no blood boy trailing behind you today?" Zeke teases.

My shoulders tense at the mention of Adrian following her. It's been a few days since my odd dream in the garden with the less than human guest, but I can still remember it in vivid detail. He wanted to know about Christina. Oddly enough that didn't seem strange to me at all. My subconscious has been inventing boyfriends for her ever since I started the sims.

However, once I woke up I couldn't endorse the choice of male my mind had chosen this time.

I know the only reason Adrian invaded my subconscious was because I was preoccupied with keeping an eye on him. I figure it's purely coincidental that he has developed a fixation on Christina.

Christina makes a noise that sounds like she smashing glass in her chest. "He _actually_ tried to run with me yesterday. _Run_. _Him_."

Zeke and Shauna find that amusing.

I find it disturbing. "Doesn't he have anything else he can be doing?"

"Not according to Guardian Tanner," Zeke says, putting the last screw in place. I raise a brow in question and realization dawns on his face with a nod. "Right, you've been busy training with all the other lackeys. Adrian is supposed to get out of his apartment and get fresh air every few hours."

"Why? If he's willing to stay locked up for his stay here, let him."

"He's not willing to stay locked up," Shauna says. Zeke lifts her off the ground and places her in her chair. "He keeps trying to sneak up top."

Again I see no reason to stop him, but this time I keep the opinion to myself.

Zeke sits on his bed, wiping the gear grease from his hands with a rag. "I'm still trying to figure out how he got down here in the first place."

"Me," Christina says.

She doesn't say it softly with guilt. It's matter of fact, clear, and confident. Her eyes narrowing in on mine, daring me to challenge her.

"He bit you," I say as if she wasn't there.

A heavy breath leaves her lungs and she shifts so her legs closer to her body. It's only then that I realize I haven't found time to stop and talk to my friend since that day. I made sure she was okay, but my focus has turned to training with the Guardians.

"He's the whole reason I went back out that day," she says, answering all the silent questions floating in the space around our heads. "When we grabbed the boxes from the first truck, I heard something in one of the big crates in the warehouse. It was a moaning…like when an animal has been left for dead and it's about to take its last breath. It distracted me all the way back to the Pit. I had to see what was in it. So I went back, popped it open, and found him."

We've all stopped moving. I think I've stopped breathing.

"He was weak. I had to help him stand. All I could see was the rest of us in his place. It wasn't until after I got him out that I saw the fangs."

"Why didn't you kill him?" I know how angry my voice is and I'm not sorry for it. I've altered the chemistry of my mind to fight these creatures. I understand her compassion to help him out of the box, but once she saw what he was—

"You weren't there," she says. "You don't know."

"He's got a point," Zeke says, leaning forward on to his knees. "How did you know he wouldn't…well do exactly what he did."

Christina's muscles are taut and she draws in steady breaths through her nose.

"Why?" I say, pushing her fear, prompting something that can help me understand. "Why—?"

The emotions within her explode. "Because he was tortured." She jumps to her feet, pacing back and forth like a caged tiger. "You didn't see it. None of you saw it. I found him a shirt and none of you could see it. But he was covered in gashes and blood. He was bent in an odd angle, too big for the box. He was shaking, terrified when I reached in." She stops, pointing a finger at me. "Don't you _dare_ tell me I did the wrong thing. I don't care if he has fangs, wings, or if he sprouts a tail. _Nothing _deserves to be treated like that."

My teeth sink into the inside of my cheek. Everyone in this room knows how my father treated me. If anyone of us were to show compassion for being tortured like that, it should be me.

But I find no guilt in my heart as I put myself in her shoes. I would have gone back. I would have looked inside the box. I would have helped him out.

And the second I saw his fangs I would have snapped his neck and left him for dead.

My eyes meet hers and I know she sees the truth of my thoughts.

She doesn't look away as she finishes her story. "He was terrified to go into the Pit. He said he'd been trapped underground for too long and he wouldn't do it again. I promised him that I would take care of him. That he was safe. He was so weak by the time we got to the storage room that he lost it."

It's an amazing thing to see someone change. A teacher once told me nothing changes. That we grow, but we're always ourselves. Maybe some root of us remains. I'll always be cruel at heart, even though at one time my heart felt love. But I know people change. Just like paint chipping away from walls, or mountains slowly washing into the ocean, people think different thoughts, see new perspectives, and all at once wake up to be a stranger.

The mouthy Candor who knew every truth in front of her six years ago is gone. The mouthy Dauntless who secured a spot next to Tris is no more. This is a different person. Christina has compassion that would rival any Amity.

It makes me sick to my stomach.

"I have no love for the guy," she says. "Any sort of friendship we might have had ended when he bit me, but… I couldn't just leave him there to die."

I have a thousand words I want to throw at her but I swallow them back down.

Everyone seems to eat their words after that. The apartment swells with silence until Zeke finally releases a sigh. "I think it's about time for their services to be over."

It strikes me as ironic that we Dauntless sit in a room with words on the wall that reminds us to be pious and yet the only people in the Pit who observe church services are the ones with partial vampire blood.

He and Shauna leave first. I stand, waiting for Christina to walk out. She's holding the door open, looking back at me.

"He's stayed true to his word," she says. "He's only drank from whoever Eddie brings to him and from what I gather he has to practically be forced to do that."

I don't care. My eyes, the tension in my shoulders, everything but my lips tell her, I don't care how nice he's being now. I know he has the potential to be a monster.

She watches me as all the fight drains from her face. When she leaves I feel a sudden sorrow fall over the room.

If Tris were here, she'd tell me what I was missing. I honestly don't know. I only want to keep my friends safe. I only want to keep the monsters away. After a lifetime of torture, I can't help but be cruel in how I strive for that goal.

Why can't she understand that?

Why is it so wrong?

He bit her and she forgave him. I say I'd kill a monster and she's disappointed in me.

Why?


	22. Chapter 22: Connection

**Chapter 22: Connection**

After all the Strigoi-staking training I've gone through recently, it feels nice to run again. My legs burn in that way that reminds me my muscles carry power. My lungs expand and constrict in steady, even rhythm. I'm in the sea of Dauntless black that circles the training room, cracking jokes with Zeke as we turn each of the four corners.

Eddie and Janine spar in a center ring, every now and then Eddie catches my eye with a look. He carries questions in that stare that I'm not interested in answering. We've reached a standstill in the past few days. Dimitri has disappeared completely. I decide that pulling away from the Dhampir clan might produce more answers for us than playing into their scheme.

I don't know if it's working. I only know they aren't happy with me. Anger tends to gain results.

The Dauntless faction once thrived on that fact.

"Whoa, Tobias! Tobias!"

I cringe as I hear Adrian's voice shouting my name.

"Damn," Zeke says next to me. He matches his stride to mine and I can hear a hitch in his breath since I run faster than he does. "I finally got rid of the other dude and now this one is trying to woo you."

I make a face that shows how disgusted I am by that suggestion.

Adrian moves through the center of the room, cutting between a battling Janine and Eddie and then backtracking as we move faster around the room than he is towards us. Eventually he gives up and attempts to pick up speed. I don't know what he's doing, but I would never call it running. His feet barely leave the ground as his legs move faster. His hips sway from side to side and his arms are bent at a sharp angle in front of his chest like he's cradling a box.

When he reaches me he's breathless, cheeks red, and I don't miss the line of sweat on his forehead. "Hey," he says between puffs of breath.

I nod, keeping my same pace. I'm the image of ease as I move, not uncomfortable at all. In fact I could go faster. I look to him and wonder when he'll hit the mat. He looks like he needs CPR standing still.

"So," he continues to force words out. He's shaky and his voice rises in pitch the more he talks. "How have you been?"

Zeke makes an amused noise on the other side of me and I scowl. I don't grace him with a response. I don't know when he suffered a blow to the head but I don't recall becoming his friend. This isn't the first time he's tried to talk to me like this. More than once he's approached me and it gets under my skin. I never indicate an interest in these conversations. Never seek him out. I've never once encouraged a situation where he's breathing long enough to speak to me. And yet here he is, face flushed and eyes shining with expectation.

"Don't you have a human to feed on?" I ask.

He flinches at the slap of my words. Everyone else coddles him. Everyone else treats him like he's one of us. I don't see the point in ignoring it. He's nothing like me.

I have to give him credit, he makes it through an entire lap around the training room before he starts whining. It's twice as far as he made it yesterday.

"Seriously," he pants, shirt clinging to his chest and feet shuffling against the floor. "What do you future people have against cars?"

"We have cars," Christina says behind me. "We also have legs. The possession of one does not negate the necessity of the other."

He falls back, matching his jerky pace to hers. "I'm not negative-fying the need for my legs. I know I need them for getting in and out of the cars. And for bracing against walls. I'll have you know these legs have held up through marathon dates."

His words are as scattered as his breaths but once I catch the meaning of his declaration I roll my eyes.

"Tough talk from a guy who can't walk in a straight line most days," Christina says.

Zeke laughs.

Adrian scoffs. At least I assume he scoffs. He might be sputtering for breath. "You leave vodka out of this. Vodka has never done anything to any of you. Besides, I'm vodka free right now."

"So you're horrible with straight lines just in general?" Christina says.

This time I laugh.

I can feel Adrian's eyes on the back of my head. "You can drag geometry into this conversation all you want but my point still stands, running is purely recreational with vehicles in existence."

I imagine myself in a dark alley and sudden attack. "That's only as true as your distance from a car versus your need for escape," I say.

Adrian makes an aggravated noise. "Not every situation in life is dire."

"Maybe not in your life," I say.

The tone of my voice warns I've reached my limit with tolerating this conversation.

Adrian is as oblivious to this as he is to the fact that he's the only person here with fangs. "If you guys went upstairs and stopped hiding in this hole-"

I stop. My muscles jerk under my skin. Those running behind me skid and slide to the sides to flow around me. Christina and Adrian have stopped. Her eyes are pleading as mine grow wide with rage.

Adrian doubles over, bracing his hands on his hips as he draws in deep breaths. He's unaware of my anger, oblivious to what he's said. He's coughing as he tries to catch his breath.

"Four," Christina says and I ignore her.

My hand slams around his throat, knocking him down to the mat. I can't control it. Can't stop it. When I look at him all I see is red. My eyes blink and I realize I really do see red. Blood. His face is covered in blood as my hand beats against his face over and over.

He's not fighting. He's just lying there. Maybe he's dead.

Good. He might be dead and the only thought in my mind is good.

Everything in the world narrows down to the thump of my knuckles against his face. I hear the crunch of bones. The sting that shoots up my arm tells me not only his bones are broken. It's a minor cost. I'll break every bone in my body if it means he pays for what he said.

Time fades into a dark haze and I don't know how much of it passes. I lose myself in the release of violence. In the past six years I've never felt as liberated and relaxed as I do now.

There's a peace in brutality, a clarity that lessens the weight that suffocates me in this pit.

Something moves into my view. A small hand placed between my fist and the bloody broken mass that once was Adrian. My knuckles brush the hand but my muscles lock to prevent any real harm.

I look up, feeling as if my skin as split from my body with the force of my rage.

Mina's big brown eyes watch me.

Not real. This is not real.

I fall back on my heels, eyes scanning the room. We're all alone in the space. Adrian is gone. The blood on my hands is cleaned away.

She stands a foot away from me, surveying me for a full minute.

I want to run. I need to hide. I wish I could claw through the floor and bury myself beneath the Pit.

She stares for three breaths more then smiles. She scurries toward me, jumping into my lap. Her arms lock around my neck in a tight hug I'm helpless to not return.

"Wow."

I look up to find Adrian standing in front of us. He's not harmed at all. His cheeks aren't even flushed anymore. His eyes are on Mina and I instinctively turn to half shield her with my body.

"I didn't know you were a dad," he says and I laugh.

Me? A father? No such possibility could ever exist. Even if Tris had survived. Even if this world were a happier place free of blood-sucking beasts. I wouldn't be qualified for fatherhood.

He sits on the mat across from us, waving his fingers when Mina peeks at him.

I'm reminded of my dream the other night. I have no idea why my mind keeps insisting on seeing Adrian. Moments ago I killed him with so much pleasure it was nearly obscene. And now Mina is smiling at him.

"You're telling me this isn't your kid?" He says as she pulls away from me and shakes his hand. "I'm Adrian. What's your name?"

"She doesn't speak," I say and Mina nods.

Adrian looks between us, a wide smile turning his lips. "God, she looks just like you."

I shake my head. Mina isn't real. She has never, and will never live. She is born of my imagination, but so is this human-like Adrian. I can no more claim a connection to her than I can him

"Did you give it to her?" I ask, remembering his obsession with a gift for Christina.

I know real Adrian wouldn't take the time to care about anyone but himself. I know real Christina has no desire for his affection. And yet here, in this quiet space, I'm hopeful he succeeds.

He frowns, playing some sort of game with tapping palms in a rhythmic patterns with Mina. "Haven't been able to crack that nut. She's sewed up tighter than you. And after Rose...well I promised I would stay out of the girls' I liked heads until invited in."

I only understand his words not the meaning behind them, distracted entirely by the mention of Rose. I want to ask him what happened with her, but I know it would be pointless. I don't know anything about the woman except that Janine gave birth to her and Dimitri followed her through time out of love. This Adrian wouldn't know anything more about her either.

"You should probably wake up," he says, still playing his game with Mina.

"What?"

He has a look in his eye, a twinkle that I swear I'm imagining. "They moved you to the infirmary. Your own uncomfortable bed and everything."

I start to speak and Mina waves to me as everything goes black. I feel as though I'm sucked through a vortex, spinning and swimming for a moment before everything rights itself.

I awake right where my mind told me I would. The lights are out, but I know this bed and I know the sterile stench of chemicals that clings to the air in the infirmary. I shift, working my way to the edge of the bed. I don't know where reality ended and that hallucination began. For all I know it was as soon as I turned around to beat up Adrian, or it was two weeks ago when Adrian arrived. Maybe Adrian is just a product of my mind like Mina.

I pinch the bridge of my nose and squeeze my eyes shut. Is it too much to ask for a happy oblivion to just swallow me whole already?

"You have to," a voice says from somewhere in the darkness.

I turn toward it, seeing a small band of light near the floor. The voice continues to speak but it has hushed to a volume too quiet for the distance. I don't hesitate, jumping from the bed and navigating my way to the closed door with ease.

I press my ear to the cold metal, hearing more than one voice.

"I can't," a low, desperate voice whispers. The words are a strangled plea of need.

Something scrapes across the floor. A chair?

"I'm not asking, I'm telling," the other voice says, and though it's softened by privacy I recognize the sound. Christina. "Eddie said the last three people he brought in you just let go. He said you snuck up to the surface to let them go. You need it."

I pull away from the door. My stomach twists into knots. Christina is talking to Adrian. He's been forgoing his blood, sneaking to the surface. I remember that from the morning in Zeke's apartment. That must have been real.

I return my ear to the door, curiosity overruling my disgust.

"I can't," Adrian says with more force. "I won't drink from you again."

"You _have_ to," she insists. "If you don't drink soon you'll attack someone else. That's on _my_ hands. I brought you here. I can't let you hurt anyone else."

The room falls quiet then. It's so silent I'm afraid they can hear my breaths from the other side of the door. Shadows dance in the faint light. I debate staying here or running back to my bed. If I'm caught listening to this exchange what will be my consequence?

"Do it," Christina says and my heart stalls. She might as well be telling me to leave them alone, but I know she's talking to Adrian. I picture her wrist forced into his face.

She has no fear of bleeding for the ones she loves.

He doesn't speak but I know he's given in. I know because she makes the same sound she did the first time he bit her. I can see the memory of her glazed eyes and false smile as clearly as if the door has suddenly evaporated in front of me now. I fall away from the door then, stumbling to the closest bed I can find.

I take six stabilizing breaths, willing my body to calm down. She asked him to do it. She's protecting us by doing this. It's not my place to intervene.

"Tobias."

I jump to attention at the sound of my name. I can't see him, the room is too dark even with the small light from the connecting room where Adrian drinks from Christina, but I know Dimitri is here.

"What are you doing here?"

"Follow me."


	23. Chapter 23: Hope

**Chapter 23: Hope**

I don't hear him move, but I know he's no longer near me. I'm on my feet and heading toward the exit. The corridors are dark which means night has fallen up top. Unless power is needed for a specific purpose we're told to carry flashlights and embrace the secret world of shadows. I never bother. I know these halls like my own skin. Even if my eyes were removed and my sense of touch were detached I could find my way through the Pit.

"Are you going to tell me anything?" I ask, matching my stride to his.

"We're going out."

That's all he offers and I don't press for more. I feel the scars on my wrist. I don't see Mina, though I don't see anything at the moment. I know Dimitri won't have the scar on his face. This isn't a sim.

Our footsteps are too measured to echo, our breaths too steady to make a sound, just the occasional sound from deep in the chasm fills the space around us as we near the top. I honestly have no idea how long it's been since real fresh air has entered my lungs. I have memories that I know never happened. I wonder if my last real breath was shared with Tris.

"Take this," he says and something cold and metallic is thrust in my hand.

A stake.

My fingers curl around the short, sharp instrument. It's only then that anticipation captures me. My body hums with eagerness, every muscle vibrating like the strings of a musical instrument. We're going outside, at night, and I'm armed to handle a Strigoi. I shouldn't be as thrilled by the prospect as I am. It's lust, pure sin on the ends of my nerves, dripping along my skin with raw heat.

I've been upset with Dimitri lately, wounded by his lack of communication, confused by his desire to keep Adrian around, but right now I'm his willing soldier.

The Strigoi came without warning and enslaved the entire population of my home. We couldn't fight them. We didn't even know they were here. We weren't aware of the Hell we existed in. Dimitri opened my eyes and gave me the means to fight my foe. I will march into Satan's den right beside him if that's what he required.

We reach the ground floor and our controlled steps find sound upon the linoleum. It's twenty five steps from the slope to the front door. Twenty five beats of my heart that increase in speed as we near the long since boarded up windows of the entrance.

I know this is real, but as the moon's light worms through the cracks of the boards I search the room for Mina's face. I've waited for this for so long. I can't believe it's happening.

And yet, I have no idea what is happening.

I'm blind in the dark as we step out into the moonlit street. Cool air stings my cheeks and I'm not sure if it's summer or winter. Night has a way of equalizing such extremes. Dimitri moves with the confidence of knowledge, winding our path through the spaces between buildings and the corners of total blackness.

My eyes adjust to the little bits of light I pass through between the cover of buildings. Alert, muscles tense, I am ready to rid the world of evil tonight. We cross under train tracks. I look up out of habit, expecting to hear the familiar click-clack of the cars as they pass over my head.

I don't remember when the trains stopped running.

We walk for quite some time, seeing the occasional person. I have to look away when I notice the dazed joy on everyone's face. I wish that had been an aspect of the sims. I hate that such bliss is a sign of such evil. Happiness should be a freedom, but the Strigoi have imprisoned us with it. I want to run up to every soul we meet and shake the elation out of them. But it's not up to me to wake everyone up. It's just up to me to help keep them safe in their ignorance.

I take my direction from Dimitri. He weaves between them as if they are trees and parked cars, so focused on our destination.

Soon the stagnant breath of water that has sat too long invades my nose. I recognize my surroundings—Navy Pier. The top of the Ferris wheel crests over the shortest building in front us. My heart seizes in my chest. I keep putting one foot in front of the other, forcing air in and out of my chest.

Why here? Why is he taking me here?

"This is where the Strigoi have set up their nest," he says and I wonder if I'm made some sort of noise to convey my distress over our destination.

"How do you know?"

He doesn't say and though I'm unafraid of the unknown I tense at uncertainty of his information. Has he been hunting the streets at night alone? Is that why he's been missing so much lately?

We walk across the pier. I touch the nose of a carousel horse as we walk past. Which one had I leaned against that night? I can't remember now. I remember how she looked. I remember that gleam in her eyes when she got the idea to climb.

Dimitri points to the Ferris wheel. "They've taken over the sewer that leads away from this point, utilizing the abandon structure as cover during the day."

It was pretty smart, actually. It was a spot that no one would have purpose finding unless they knew what they were looking for. Most everywhere else in the city had been renovated after the walls came down, but Navy Pier had been swept into the trash bin of the forgotten. For a time I was curious as to why no had either torn it down or fixed it up. Now it made sense.

The Strigoi had kept it protected.

"What's the plan?" It feels useless to ask. He's been thrifty with words all night. But we've reached the point when I need more guidance than just to follow him. I need to know what our objective for this is.

"We remain silent," he says, moving toward a small structure at the edge of the pier.

The Ferris wheel is a good two hundred feet in front of us and I'm not stupid enough to believe we're safe just because we aren't on top of the machine, but I'm curious how he knows where to step.

I reach back to touch the horse one last time. I don't get the opportunity to feel real things that remind me of her that often anymore. I want to feel this again. My hand connects with something cold and solid. My mind doesn't have time to process what's happening before I'm flying through the air, landing hard on the ground fifty feet from the carousel.

The freezing, hard thing that I touched is squeezed around my throat and it's only then that I realize it's a hand.

The icy breath of night teases my skin as the air is sucked from my lungs. Time slows. My eyes blink in the space of an hour as the image in front of me sets in. Skin like snow. Eyes so red they're like flames. Fangs sharp and aimed at my face.

I saw Adrian bite Christina. I saw Rose in Dimitri's simulation. I've heard the stories. I've trained for weeks.

Nothing prepares for this moment right now.

I'm staring into the eyes of Satan—seeing straight into Hell. Even my father never looked this evil.

My preparation was for nothing. The stake still clutched in my hand, but my muscles are slack from fear.

Fear. That word isn't thick enough for what I feel right now. I'm beyond fear, existing in a state of detachment. I'm crippled by the realization that all nightmares are real.

And it's not even the unnatural aspects that scare me. It's that this is the face of a young man, not much older than myself. He has two eyes, a nose, two ears, and short dark hair. He has a heart and a mind, once had a soul. Once he was something close to human. He walks in the same sort of body as my own, but he has no sense of life anymore. I can see it. Deep in his eye is the cruelty and viciousness that has corrupted and twisted him into this creature.

It terrifies me.

If he were to drain my blood and pour his into my veins, I would become this too. Against my will I could be reduced to an evil monster.

I am weak.

I am pathetic.

I close my eyes and pray that he will kill me. I do not fear death, I long for it. I yearn for the day I can reunite with her. I want this heart to stop beating.

Please let him kill me and not turn me into one of them.


	24. Chapter 24: Touch

**Chapter 24: Touch**

"Do you want to have children?"

My eyes open, taking in the sight of the dark gray ceiling. The sun has set but the moonlight streams through the windows, glowing bright enough for me to see her as she raises her head from my chest.

My eyes scan her face, a smile touching my lips as my fingers run along her back. I can't believe we just did what we did. I've wanted this for so long. Needed it my entire life. I'm complete right now. Joined to her in a way we can't speak, but we know. I feel as though I left a part me forever inside of her. I am so full of emotions that I could burst, but there's this small space deep within that has been emptied just for her. It's whole right now. It will ache any time she's away from me. I know it will.

I'm distracted by the feel of soft skin, the scent of our sweat mingled together. She cocks an eyebrow, determined to get a response from me.

I look back to the ceiling, my breath leaving my lungs with the weight of resignation. "I'm not meant to be a dad."

"That's not what I asked," she says. I feel her chin rest on my chest, her fingers lazily draw circles on my skin. "Do you _want_ to have children?"

A few months ago I understood the world. It had four tight walls that held me together. Trains circled with the walls, speeding in circles, never fully reaching a destination, and I was content with that definition of space. The sky was above and the ground was below and I knew who I was in between.

Now the sky reaches so far above that I see stars as clearly as buildings. The ground seems to be yawning open, the mouth of Hell wanting to swallow me whole. The walls have crumbled around me and I have no description for myself but damaged.

How can I bring a child into this chaos? How can I create a life when I have no idea how to live my own?

"No," I say. I don't whisper but the shadows around us hush the tone of my voice into an intimate declaration. It's one that only Tris' ears are meant to hear.

She doesn't ask me again and I see disappointment in her eyes. I wonder at it. She who has been so reckless with her blood, willing to spill it without a moment's hesitation, _wants_ to use it to create a child…with me?

I want to feel elation from that truth.

All I feel is fear.

I consider reminding her of what I came from. I might strive to act the opposite of my parents but I am no different than the microchip of a simulation. My blood has a code written upon it that will predetermine my actions for me. I'm not like her. I'm not Divergent. I am aware of my rage, of my lack of heart, of my weakness, and I can fight it, change it, and control it in the moment. But sometimes I get lost in it too. I seek violence. I seek vengeance. I think only of myself and am blind with a world full of explanations around me.

I can't pass that information on to an innocent mind. I can't force a child to grow up with this kill switch inside of them, desperately wishing their code had been pure and free of such of hate.

"Do you remember what you just said to me," she says, nodding toward the door. Her hands frame my face and I wonder if there's a way to pull inside myself to keep from looking into her eyes. But there's not. I look and I am overwhelmed by the love I see. "You aren't less, or broken, or wrong. You're perfect."

Nothing is perfect my mind says as my lips remain closed. Lips that turn up at the ends with a smile.

My hand touches her, sliding along her arm, over her shoulder and curving under to touch her breast. Red tints her cheeks, a gasp fills her lungs. She moves to cover herself, to shrink away from my touch.

"Look who's talking," I say, rolling us over on the couch so that we trade positions. I hold my weight on my elbows, my eyes replacing my fingertips as I continue to touch every exposed piece of her flesh.

"Stop," she says.

I shake my head, lowering my lips to a rosy tip. I press a soft kiss to her breast and she makes a sound that sends a shiver down my spine. "You are beautiful," I whisper against her. "You are strong." Another kiss. "You are perfect."

"Tobias."

I freeze, lips poised against the curve of her breast as the sound of Dimitri's voice echoes around me.

Dimitri.

I pull back, finding empty white sheets beneath me. The stench of sterile chemicals stings my nostrils. The Infirmary. The Pit. The cold, dark future where she no longer exists.

Every muscle within me spasms. I'm locked in place as if I'm trying to expel a demon from the center of my bones. Nothing comes out. Nothing purges. It all stays inside and it all hurts. Every inch of me is in agony.

"Yeah," I hear someone say from far away. "I think it's finally clearing from his system."

I'm in Hell.

I was in Heaven. I was in her arms. I could feel her and smell her. I heard her voice.

And now I'm in Hell.

That dark deep pit in the center of the earth that chokes every last breath of goodness from you, this is my home. This is the place I can never escape.

I fall out of bed. Tears are in my eyes. A snarl of pain rips from my chest. I move with shaky steps, blindly clawing at everything around me. I have to get back. I have to find her.

I have to die.

"Restrain him!"

I fight. Hands. Arms. Legs. A boot lands in the middle of my stomach and I double over, but I keep struggling. Maybe if I hurt them while they try to hold me they will hurt me too. Maybe they will hurt me so badly that I won't recover.

An arm wraps around my throat, my knees are on the stone floor, eyes blinking rapidly as something moves in front of me. I blink a hundred times before the tears clear.

Dimitri.

Please. Kill me.

He crouches down and I tug against the force that holds me back. His eyes are level with mine. I see judgment. I see disappointment.

I don't look away.

"Come back to us," he says.

I want to spit in his face. There's nothing for me here. I want to…_have _to be with her.

"Come on, man."

Zeke. Zeke's voice is in my ear. Zeke is the one with the ironclad grip of my neck and arms.

"Calm down, buddy. It will pass. It will be okay once it passes."

I try to shake my head but I can't. I'm locked in place. Stiff. My lungs can't expand. My body can't move. A shock of pain ripples through me every second.

"Do you know where you are?" Dimitri asks.

I don't want to play his game. I don't want to be here. My mind has a thousand answers and my each is blocked by a dam at the base of my skull.

"In Hell," I say. My voice sounds as though I've screamed for days.

"Close enough," Zeke says.

Dimitri frowns. "Do you know where you are?"

Anger swiftly overtakes agony and I snap my teeth at him. "I'm in the Pit…oh Hell."

"We get it," Zeke says, "the food is horrible and we live underground. It's not the President's suite at the Erudite compound."

"What do you remember?" Dimitri asks, his eyes never leaving mine.

"You took me to the pier. That thing attacked me…" My voice trails off and I keep what happened next in the secret spot inside my mind.

Dimitri nods. "That's right. He bit you."

I flinch, bracing myself for the sting of another bite. It doesn't come. I didn't feel it before. I never felt any of the bites. I recall a second of fear and then everything was perfect again.

"It's over," Dimitri says and I begin to shake. "Relax. Get some rest. It's over."

I try to remember why I should be relieved. It's impossible to understand. Why did I ever hate the Strigoi? They gave me Tris back. They gave me peace.

The fight drains out of me and Zeke drags me back to a bed. I lay against the scratchy blanket with no will to move. I've ran myself ragged to follow Dimitri these past few months and I no longer know why.

I had forgotten. I had driven the memory from my mind, focusing entirely on this agony that waking up brings. I was appalled to realize how easily I embraced death after a bite. But now I know. Now I remember why there's no point to living anymore.

"Stop it, man," Zeke says. The bed dips beside me and I assume he has sat down. "I can only imagine how good it felt. I can only imagine how hard it is for you to wake up, but come on, Four, I need you to keep fighting."

The ceiling over me is dark and gray. My chest feels carved hollow. I have no more words. I have no more will.

I turn on my side, pulling my legs to my chest and close my eyes.

Maybe death will claim me in my sleep.


	25. Chapter 25: Glass

**Chapter 25: Glass**

Days move by in a slow trudge like a wounded army retreating from a war it has lost. Little by little my mind returns to me. One by one I make each second mean something again.

It's not easy.

I stare at the glass of the window above me and plan ways to break it and slit my wrists. I look for something sturdy, high enough from the ground that I can hang these bed sheets from and wrap the other end around my neck. I'm constantly watched. Zeke has made this room his new home. Christina visits every other hour. Even Eddie and Janine stop by from time to time to talk to me.

I think it's been a week. I'm not sure. I just know that when I open my eyes today, I'm glad I'm still alive.

I owe Tris that much. She gave up her life so I could remember and so I could keep living.

"Breakfast time," Zeke says, dropping a bowl of oatmeal on the tray next to my bed.

I grimace but sit up. "Back to plain oatmeal, huh?"

Zeke shrugs. "It's not so bad. And with…what happened the other day it's best we not go up top any time soon."

He doesn't use so many words but I know what he means. I put every single life in the compound at risk by letting myself get bit.

I haven't been interested in talking much. I'm not that committed to it right now, but I do want to know. "What happened? Did he…did he save me from it?"

Dimitri didn't appear to have any wounds and we both returned to the Pit. That had to mean he killed it.

Zeke goes still, real still. He has a mouth full of oatmeal and all the sudden his jaw has stopped like he's just sitting here breathing.

"Zeke?"

He sighs, stabbing the contents of his bowl with his spoon as he swallows. "Do you really think he's told _us_ anything?"

I read the set of his jaw and the anger in his eyes. Zeke is every bit as frustrated as I am.

"I'm sorry." I'm not really. I am sorry he's suffered at all, but I'm not sorry I was bit.

Zeke snorts. "No you're not, but thanks for the nice lie."

We both laugh.

The door to the infirmary swings open and until she's standing beside the bed I don't realize it's Christina who walks in. I recall days not long ago when her footsteps echoed off the walls. She always stomped in her approach, driving her feet into the ground like the loud announcement of honesty from her lips.

She walks softly now.

She sits on the end of my bed, careful not to touch my bare feet where they sit above my blanket. I don't remember the last time I wore socks.

"You're sitting up today," she says. A smile graces her lips but I see worry in her eyes.

My eyes seek shelter in the ceiling. I've come to consider the roof one of my friends. I've seen the top of the room so much these past few days. I've told it my secrets and it's neither judged me nor abandoned me. It just remains a support above me. I wish I wasn't so afraid of heights. I would climb up and give the ceiling a hug if I wasn't so afraid of leaving the ground.

"He ate some too," Zeke says.

"I'm not a toddler," I say, scowling at the ceiling. I hope it understands I'm mad at my friends for acting like I'm not in the room and not at it.

"That's true," Zeke agrees. "You're potty trained."

They share a laugh at my expense and I roll on to my side. That little bit of hope that flared when I awoke is already dwindling. I just want to close my eyes and forget anything exists.

"I'm sorry," Christina says. I stiffen as a hand touches my leg. "It'll get better."

I know it's the truth, she wouldn't say it if it weren't the truth, but I've come to the decision that time doesn't make anything better. Time just makes us complacent. It's like running. When a body first begins training it hurts every single second. Muscles burn and twinge and ache. Over time the body can be conditioned to accept the pain. The muscles don't stop burning, we just get used to the heat.

I wonder if a soul in Hell ever gets used to the flames.

There will never be enough time to heal my wounds. I didn't get shot, or cut, or break a bone. This injury is to the center of my soul, and that can't ever be repaired, even with the stitching of time.

I look at her then, offer her hope that I will get better. I know eventually I'll return to the man I was before that night on the pier. I'll be bitter and hollow and strong. I'll be cruel and determined and go back to fighting.

Go back to running in circles.

I offer a weak smile and few of the worries in her eyes fall away. I look down to the hand on my leg, noticing she has some new mark on the back of her hand.

"What's this?" I ask, pointing to the white and black circle. It's familiar, something I remember from a dream, I think.

At first she pulls her hand away, shielding it, but when Zeke inquires too she sighs. She returns her hand to the bed, spreading her fingers wide to display the symbol. I definitely recognize it, but I can't place where. It's a circle, half in white and half black. A dot of white sits in the center of the black and a dot of black stands out in the center of the white.

"Is that a Candor symbol?" I ask. Maybe I remember it from the days of factions. Maybe it's something I saw when we lived in the Candor compound six years ago.

She shakes her head. "No." Her voice is so small, timid like a spring breeze that doesn't rustle leaves. "It's…uh…It's something Adrian drew."

I've never seen Christina blush. I've seen her flushed from exertion. I've seen her cheeks aflame with rage. But this image in front of me is foreign. Her lips can't decide if she is happy or sad. Her eyes can't meet mine or Zeke's for more than a second. She tucks her hair behind her ear, pulling her hand away.

"He drew it with what?" Zeke asks, as if that's the most important aspect of this confession that we should explore.

"Paint. He found paint in Tori's old supplies and he made this for me."

I don't know why I say what I say next. It's just the first thought that pops into my head. "It will rub off before tomorrow."

Maybe it's because to me ink on my skin should be permanent. More like it's a result of the ink that _is_ on my skin that I am so blunt with my words. Still, it seems like such an empty gesture.

Christina isn't fazed by my thoughts. She shrugs, touching a finger to the insignificant symbol. "I don't mind." She smiles, a big goofy looking grin that shows all of her teeth. "Maybe he'll draw me another one tomorrow."

I wonder how long I've been in this bed. More time must have passed than I thought. I know that look that's in her eyes. I know the giddy excitement that I can practically see dancing under her skin as she says his name. I surely was asleep for a hundred years since that Strigoi attack.

That's the only thing that would explain Christina falling in love.

I feel something simmer under my pain, something that makes me want to put my fist through the wall, makes me want to shake sense into her, but all other emotions are too far depressed within me. It's her life. If she wants to waste it on a monster, let her.

"Well," Zeke says, eyeing me like he's surprised I haven't flown off the bed in rage. "Just…be safe."

Her eyes roll and Zeke laughs. "Safety isn't really the Dauntless way," she points out.

Zeke moves around the bed, slinging his arm over her shoulders. "Yeah, well, it's _our_ way. You tell that moron we'll find him if he hurts you."

"He's a _Moroi_," she says, enunciating the word slowly as if Zeke is hard of hearing.

He shots me a look. "Huh, all this time I've been calling him a moron."

A strange tingle infuses my chest and I laugh out of a genuine sensation of humor. "I haven't but I will now."

"Ha, ha," Christina says, shoving both us. She stands, glancing toward the door on the other end of the infirmary.

I recall a moment the other night when I heard her and Adrian behind that door. "Is that where they're keeping him?"

"What?" she asks.

I can tell my question is ridiculous to her, so I clarify. "Is that where Adrian is staying?"

Zeke looks to the door and back to me. His eyebrows are scrunched with concern. "That's the broom closet, man."

Understanding dawns as I look back to Christina. She keeps her face clear of any worry, but I see questions burning in her eyes. And I now know that she had forced him into a private place to beg him to drink from her. She didn't want anyone finding them. Why? On the one hand she seems devoted to him, and on the other she seems ashamed. I'm confused.

She shakes her head so minutely that I think I imagine it. I say nothing else about the closet, nothing else about Adrian. I roll on to my side as they continue to talk.

I had hoped this would be a good day.


	26. Chapter 26: Tempt

**Chapter 27 : Snap**

Christina accepts my apology, but I can see hurt in her eyes every time she looks at me now. She doesn't say she's sorry for what she said to me and I don't expect her to. It stung, it still stings, but I know that's because it's true. To some degree I pushed Tris to be everything she could. I pushed Tris to balance my inadequacies. And that resulted in her embracing a true act of selflessness.

She tells Zeke and I about the nightmares Adrian has. That he's afraid to fall asleep and when he does he screams until the morning.

"Is it some kind of compulsion?" Zeke guesses.

"Trauma from his imprisonment," I suggest.

Christina shakes her head. "No, he does have that." She nods and an emotion crosses her face that I feel in my bones. It's the same feeling I had when I knew Tris would go to Erudite. That terror of knowing the one you love is out of your reach to help. "This is different. This started after that night you were bit. He was on edge that night, after he healed you."

"He healed me?" I ask. I don't recall any injuries that Adrian needed to heal.

Christina rolls her eyes. I am a toddler with too many questions that stall her explanations. "When you flipped during the morning run. Don't you remember that?"

My memories are murky like dirty water but I remember the hallucination that morning. I hadn't realized the run was real. I nod.

"You saw him in the doorway when we made the second turn and all the sudden you were on the mat, punching your fists so hard in the floor that you broke you hand," she says.

I look to Zeke and he confirms it. "You were, man. You just…snapped. You didn't say anything, or touch anyone, but you were on the ground beating the shit of the mat like it was the Devil himself. You kept swinging even after you broke your hand."

My left hand slides over the knuckles of my right. Nothing is broken. I don't remember any pain before or after I woke up in the infirmary. "Adrian…healed me?"

They both nod. I'm thankful my friends are patient people. We standing in Zeke's apartment and sit on the edge of his bed, dropping my face into my hands.

"He was weak from helping you and that's when I realized he wasn't drinking any blood."

I peek through my fingers and she nods. Neither of us needs to tell Zeke about what she did next.

"Then what?" Zeke asks, as if he can read our minds.

"Then I woke up in the infirmary that night, alone, and Dimitri told me to follow him," I say.

"Where did you go?" he asks.

"Navy Pier," I say. I realize this is the first time I've been clear enough to talk to my friends since that night. I don't know how long ago that night was, but I know it's been more than a week. A fresh wave of guilt rolls over me like a returning tide.

"Why there?" Christina asks.

"Dimitri said he'd found the nest. He said they were set up under the Ferris wheel. And—"

"He must have been right," Zeke says. I nod. "How did he know where to look?"

Christina sits cross-legged on the floor. "Adrian told him."

This is news to me. "Adrian remembers where he was held?"

"Not exactly," she says, frowning. "It's more… he showed them images in his head and they all investigated it from there."

I start to ask her how he showed them these images when the door flies open. As if he is the Devil and we've talked him up from Hell, Adrian storms into the room. His eyes are wild and wide. His body jerks with every other breath and words fall from his lips like drops of water from a broken spout.

"Can't make it stop, can't make it stop," he chants over and over. He charges straight for Christina, showing no indication that he even knows anyone else is in the room. "Can't make it stop."

"What's happening? What is it?" she asks. She's on her knees, hands framing his face. She uses a special tone of voice that I can tell is reserved only for him.

"Can't…can't…" He's shaking his head back and forth, rocking on his knees. His eyes track hers and for a second I think he finally sees her. And then his eyes turn to shimmering glass that shatters and flows down his cheeks as if something has exploded in his head. "Don't die," he says with so much anguish in his voice that I feel it echoed in my heart. "Don't die!"

He's shouting it again and again, lost in inconsolable hysterics.

"Adrian!" Christina says his name more than once, but it doesn't help. He screams until his body is too worked up. His eyes roll back in his head and he begins to seize.

I'm on the ground next to her then, Zeke is right beside me. He holds Adrian's body as I force my fingers in his mouth to keep him from swallowing his tongue. It's over in a matter of seconds, not long enough to do any damage to his brain, but long enough to rob him of consciousness.

We all take a breath as he relaxes into the rug.

I pull my fingers out of his mouth and stand. I know what just happened, but I can't believe I know what just happened.

"Is it just me," Christina says, "or was that—"

Zeke turns Adrian's head to the side, pulling the collar of his white t-shirt down. A small red dot sits at the base of his neck. A puncture point.

"A simulation," Zeke says.

I nod. My mind is sprinting forward and my heart is desperately trying to match pace. They've been using serums on Adrian. For what?

A noise out in the hall draws all our focus. Zeke runs to the door, peeking out. "Eddie," he mouths.

Christina looks around for some way to hide him.

I don't think. I react. I pull his arm over my shoulder and haul him to his feet, heading straight for Zeke's bathroom. Christina grabs his other arm and helps me steer him to the tub. She lies on top of him. With the shower curtain open, from the door, it looks as though the bathroom is still empty.

I head back into the main room of the apartment just as Eddie enters through the front door. I make sure the entrance to the bathroom is left wide open. I know everyone in the apartment has a clear view of the tub.

Zeke is all smiles, welcoming Eddie.

I catch the Dhampir's gaze and nod. He tries to give the illusion of a routine inspection, but I can see the tension in his jaw. His lab rat escaped.

"Have either of you seen Christina?" Eddie asks.

Eddie is smart. He's not about to admit Adrian is the one on the loose. Unfortunately for him I've lived a life of false faces.

"Yes," I lie with ease that would fool the most trained Candor. "She just walked by about…what…" I turn to Zeke for confirmation. "Maybe five minutes ago?"

Five minutes ago Adrian ran into the room and passed out. That would put him directly in Christina's path.

Zeke nods. "Yeah," he says, scratching his neck. "I think she was getting ready for a second raid. She said something about a new truck she saw this morning."

Eddie nods, sliding his hands into his pockets. He steps around me and Zeke opens the top drawer of a dresser behind him.

"What are you two up to in here?" Eddie asks.

"We were on our way to train and I forgot this," Zeke says, tugging on a sweatshirt. "Plus Four had to pee."

Eddie looks to me and I shrug. I had just come out of the bathroom when he entered.

The excuse convinces Eddie and I can see as he spins around that he's trying to not run from the room to find his prey. "Have fun running today," he says as he reaches the door.

"No stake training?" I ask. I don't know if I sound eager. I'm not. I know deep in my heart that if a Strigoi was in front of me right now I would beg it to bite me.

He shakes his head. "Nah. You need to get more rest and we'll be in conference all week."

_Conference._ Interrogation is more like it. "Good. I'm enjoying catching up on my sleep."

Zeke throws his head back and laughs. "I've been trying to get you to sleep in for years, but no you busted my ass at the crack of dawn. And now you're happy to get some rest?"

We move toward the door naturally, like we honestly do mean to head up to the training floor.

I roll my eyes. "You needed the extra time at the gym."

"Watch it, Four," Zeke says, raising his fists as if we're going to fight right here, "I can still go a few rounds with you."

"Bring it," I say, hopping from one foot to the other, throwing some punches that don't come close to connecting with Zeke's face.

Eddie laughs, waving to us as he quickly heads in the direction of the supply room.

Once he's around the corner we both stop moving. We stand there for a few minutes more, making sure no one else comes along to check on us.

"I'm going to go get Shauna," Zeke says. He doesn't wait for my opinion on him leaving he just warns me that's where he's going.

I don't blame him. We've felt something was off for a while. This proves that something is going on with the Dhampirs and we can't trust them. I would want the person I love most near me during a time like this too.

I stand in the hall. Zeke's door's still open. I rub the scar on my wrist, glance around. No Mina. This is real.

I take six, sharp, shallow breaths. My heart is still hammering in my chest. I can't riddle this out. And yet, I know all the pieces are in front of me.

I walk into the apartment, closing the front door and then the one to the bathroom behind me. Christina is still lying on top of Adrian when I near the tub. Oddly I notice she's fallen asleep. Her hand is pressed to his cheek and small smile plays on her lips. Adrian doesn't look as relaxed. His cheek twitches under her touch. His mouth hangs open and an occasional sound falls out like it's pushed over the cliff of his throat. His eyes move back and forth under his closed lids so rapidly it's like they're running around the training room.

I locate Zeke's hidden supply of knives tucked behind the toilet and sit on the floor with my back against the tub. I don't know what's happening, but I can't leave them in here defenseless.

A few minutes later I hear the front door open followed by commotion and I holler that I'm in here.

The door flings open, knocking into the wall so hard I can hear the plaster crack. I'm about to ask Zeke what's wrong when I'm hauled off the ground. My hands touch a slippery leather coat but can't grab hold before I'm thrown into the air.

I hit the wall like the door and I hear my head crack as everything goes dark.


	27. Chapter 27: Snap

**Chapter 27 : Snap**

Christina accepts my apology, but I can see hurt in her eyes every time she looks at me now. She doesn't say she's sorry for what she said to me and I don't expect her to. It stung, it still stings, but I know that's because it's true. To some degree I pushed Tris to be everything she could. I pushed Tris to balance my inadequacies. And that resulted in her embracing a true act of selflessness.

She tells Zeke and I about the nightmares Adrian has. That he's afraid to fall asleep and when he does he screams until the morning.

"Is it some kind of compulsion?" Zeke guesses.

"Trauma from his imprisonment," I suggest.

Christina shakes her head. "No, he does have that." She nods and an emotion crosses her face that I feel in my bones. It's the same feeling I had when I knew Tris would go to Erudite. That terror of knowing the one you love is out of your reach to help. "This is different. This started after that night you were bit. He was on edge that night, after he healed you."

"He healed me?" I ask. I don't recall any injuries that Adrian needed to heal.

Christina rolls her eyes. I am a toddler with too many questions that stall her explanations. "When you flipped during the morning run. Don't you remember that?"

My memories are murky like dirty water but I remember the hallucination that morning. I hadn't realized the run was real. I nod.

"You saw him in the doorway when we made the second turn and all the sudden you were on the mat, punching your fists so hard in the floor that you broke you hand," she says.

I look to Zeke and he confirms it. "You were, man. You just…snapped. You didn't say anything, or touch anyone, but you were on the ground beating the shit of the mat like it was the Devil himself. You kept swinging even after you broke your hand."

My left hand slides over the knuckles of my right. Nothing is broken. I don't remember any pain before or after I woke up in the infirmary. "Adrian…healed me?"

They both nod. I'm thankful my friends are patient people. We standing in Zeke's apartment and sit on the edge of his bed, dropping my face into my hands.

"He was weak from helping you and that's when I realized he wasn't drinking any blood."

I peek through my fingers and she nods. Neither of us needs to tell Zeke about what she did next.

"Then what?" Zeke asks, as if he can read our minds.

"Then I woke up in the infirmary that night, alone, and Dimitri told me to follow him," I say.

"Where did you go?" he asks.

"Navy Pier," I say. I realize this is the first time I've been clear enough to talk to my friends since that night. I don't know how long ago that night was, but I know it's been more than a week. A fresh wave of guilt rolls over me like a returning tide.

"Why there?" Christina asks.

"Dimitri said he'd found the nest. He said they were set up under the Ferris wheel. And—"

"He must have been right," Zeke says. I nod. "How did he know where to look?"

Christina sits cross-legged on the floor. "Adrian told him."

This is news to me. "Adrian remembers where he was held?"

"Not exactly," she says, frowning. "It's more… he showed them images in his head and they all investigated it from there."

I start to ask her how he showed them these images when the door flies open. As if he is the Devil and we've talked him up from Hell, Adrian storms into the room. His eyes are wild and wide. His body jerks with every other breath and words fall from his lips like drops of water from a broken spout.

"Can't make it stop, can't make it stop," he chants over and over. He charges straight for Christina, showing no indication that he even knows anyone else is in the room. "Can't make it stop."

"What's happening? What is it?" she asks. She's on her knees, hands framing his face. She uses a special tone of voice that I can tell is reserved only for him.

"Can't…can't…" He's shaking his head back and forth, rocking on his knees. His eyes track hers and for a second I think he finally sees her. And then his eyes turn to shimmering glass that shatters and flows down his cheeks as if something has exploded in his head. "Don't die," he says with so much anguish in his voice that I feel it echoed in my heart. "Don't die!"

He's shouting it again and again, lost in inconsolable hysterics.

"Adrian!" Christina says his name more than once, but it doesn't help. He screams until his body is too worked up. His eyes roll back in his head and he begins to seize.

I'm on the ground next to her then, Zeke is right beside me. He holds Adrian's body as I force my fingers in his mouth to keep him from swallowing his tongue. It's over in a matter of seconds, not long enough to do any damage to his brain, but long enough to rob him of consciousness.

We all take a breath as he relaxes into the rug.

I pull my fingers out of his mouth and stand. I know what just happened, but I can't believe I know what just happened.

"Is it just me," Christina says, "or was that—"

Zeke turns Adrian's head to the side, pulling the collar of his white t-shirt down. A small red dot sits at the base of his neck. A puncture point.

"A simulation," Zeke says.

I nod. My mind is sprinting forward and my heart is desperately trying to match pace. They've been using serums on Adrian. For what?

A noise out in the hall draws all our focus. Zeke runs to the door, peeking out. "Eddie," he mouths.

Christina looks around for some way to hide him.

I don't think. I react. I pull his arm over my shoulder and haul him to his feet, heading straight for Zeke's bathroom. Christina grabs his other arm and helps me steer him to the tub. She lies on top of him. With the shower curtain open, from the door, it looks as though the bathroom is still empty.

I head back into the main room of the apartment just as Eddie enters through the front door. I make sure the entrance to the bathroom is left wide open. I know everyone in the apartment has a clear view of the tub.

Zeke is all smiles, welcoming Eddie.

I catch the Dhampir's gaze and nod. He tries to give the illusion of a routine inspection, but I can see the tension in his jaw. His lab rat escaped.

"Have either of you seen Christina?" Eddie asks.

Eddie is smart. He's not about to admit Adrian is the one on the loose. Unfortunately for him I've lived a life of false faces.

"Yes," I lie with ease that would fool the most trained Candor. "She just walked by about…what…" I turn to Zeke for confirmation. "Maybe five minutes ago?"

Five minutes ago Adrian ran into the room and passed out. That would put him directly in Christina's path.

Zeke nods. "Yeah," he says, scratching his neck. "I think she was getting ready for a second raid. She said something about a new truck she saw this morning."

Eddie nods, sliding his hands into his pockets. He steps around me and Zeke opens the top drawer of a dresser behind him.

"What are you two up to in here?" Eddie asks.

"We were on our way to train and I forgot this," Zeke says, tugging on a sweatshirt. "Plus Four had to pee."

Eddie looks to me and I shrug. I had just come out of the bathroom when he entered.

The excuse convinces Eddie and I can see as he spins around that he's trying to not run from the room to find his prey. "Have fun running today," he says as he reaches the door.

"No stake training?" I ask. I don't know if I sound eager. I'm not. I know deep in my heart that if a Strigoi was in front of me right now I would beg it to bite me.

He shakes his head. "Nah. You need to get more rest and we'll be in conference all week."

_Conference._ Interrogation is more like it. "Good. I'm enjoying catching up on my sleep."

Zeke throws his head back and laughs. "I've been trying to get you to sleep in for years, but no you busted my ass at the crack of dawn. And now you're happy to get some rest?"

We move toward the door naturally, like we honestly do mean to head up to the training floor.

I roll my eyes. "You needed the extra time at the gym."

"Watch it, Four," Zeke says, raising his fists as if we're going to fight right here, "I can still go a few rounds with you."

"Bring it," I say, hopping from one foot to the other, throwing some punches that don't come close to connecting with Zeke's face.

Eddie laughs, waving to us as he quickly heads in the direction of the supply room.

Once he's around the corner we both stop moving. We stand there for a few minutes more, making sure no one else comes along to check on us.

"I'm going to go get Shauna," Zeke says. He doesn't wait for my opinion on him leaving he just warns me that's where he's going.

I don't blame him. We've felt something was off for a while. This proves that something is going on with the Dhampirs and we can't trust them. I would want the person I love most near me during a time like this too.

I stand in the hall. Zeke's door's still open. I rub the scar on my wrist, glance around. No Mina. This is real.

I take six, sharp, shallow breaths. My heart is still hammering in my chest. I can't riddle this out. And yet, I know all the pieces are in front of me.

I walk into the apartment, closing the front door and then the one to the bathroom behind me. Christina is still lying on top of Adrian when I near the tub. Oddly I notice she's fallen asleep. Her hand is pressed to his cheek and small smile plays on her lips. Adrian doesn't look as relaxed. His cheek twitches under her touch. His mouth hangs open and an occasional sound falls out like it's pushed over the cliff of his throat. His eyes move back and forth under his closed lids so rapidly it's like they're running around the training room.

I locate Zeke's hidden supply of knives tucked behind the toilet and sit on the floor with my back against the tub. I don't know what's happening, but I can't leave them in here defenseless.

A few minutes later I hear the front door open followed by commotion and I holler that I'm in here.

The door flings open, knocking into the wall so hard I can hear the plaster crack. I'm about to ask Zeke what's wrong when I'm hauled off the ground. My hands touch a slippery leather coat but can't grab hold before I'm thrown into the air.

I hit the wall like the door and I hear my head crack as everything goes dark.


	28. Chapter 28: Chance

**Chapter 28: Chance **

The melody of wind chimes rouses me. Light winks off the metal tubes as my eyes open. I expect a headache, but I feel no pain. I don't have to look around when I sit up, I know where I am.

The garden.

I don't know why my brain keeps bringing me to this place. It makes me think of where Uriah was standing when the bomb went off. Only this garden is more tranquil, comforting. A big part of me is thankful for that, to know that peace can still exist where once violent chaos exploded. All of the rest of me feels guilty for being here.

There was no peaceful solace for Uriah. Only death.

I hear a low groan behind me. I stand as I turn, finding Adrian lying in the center of the gazebo. He looks much the same as he had in the apartment. His mouth is still hanging open. His eyes still roam back and forth. But now he's awake. He shivers, pulling his body into a tight ball.

I kneel next to him, not sure what to do. Why has my mind thought this up?

"Because your mind is just as fucked up as mine."

My breath stalls and I spin to find Adrian wide awake, standing at the step I just vacated. He leans casually against a support beam, hands in his pockets and a relaxed look on his face. The quivering mass is still next to me.

How is this possible?

"That's how I look right now," he says, nodding to his broken twin. "She tried to fight them off, but Dhampirs are a rare, strong breed." His eyes grow distant. "It was bred into them, the violence. We made them that way because we were too weak, and too high-minded to want to fight for ourselves. We made them cruel so we could be free to be blind."

I don't know what he's talking about and yet an odd sense of déjà vu sweeps over me. He might as well be talking about the Dauntless.

"You got about five minutes," he says. His words are a heavy sigh.

"Five minutes till what?"

"Till they wake us all up and I won't be able to tell you anything."

I often wonder about the phrase "I know my own mind". These past few months, dealing with reality-altering serums, has taught me that my mind will forever be a mystery to myself. I don't understand why I keep conjuring up Adrian. This moment is only further curious by the fact that I can't interrogate myself to find out what Adrian knows.

"Why are you here?" I ask, hoping my mind might explain itself.

"How is it that the universe decided to shove all the right molecules together to create such a god-like creature as me in this time and this space?" he asks. "Or do you mean why am I in this fucked up version of Chicago a million years after I should have died?"

I tilt my head to the side as I look at him and he laughs.

"I hope you mean why am I here in Chicago, because I really slept off hangovers more than visited that philosophy class I was registered for in school."

The more I talk to him, the less I understand. This garden simulation doesn't play by any rules that the others do. I realize I've never seen Mina here. I've never been afraid to think of Tris. I have no reason to conjure up the pointy-toothed moron, but I find myself here again and again.

Why?

The wind chimes sound over Adrian's head and my eyes are drawn to the chains that hang between the metal tubes. One chain swings wildly with the wind, no longer anchored by the white and black disk that I removed before.

The Yin and Yang.

I see Christina's back as she walks away from the tattoo shop. She yelled at me for being blind and suddenly I see the image painted on the back of her neck.

That was _real_.

This is… "Are we actually talking to each other?" I ask as I jump to my feet.

He shrugs, as if it's not that important of a detail to clarify. "Yeah. I'm in your dream."

The letters and words of that sentence are all known to me but the meaning is lost to my mind. "You're _in_ my _dream_?"

He nods. "And you got about two minutes left before we're both wide awake in the middle of Dimitri's favorite torture room."

I feel rage at being so exposed, but it is quickly overshadowed by fear. "Torture room? Dimitri has a—"

"You know, I used to think you were the only one around here who really knew what was going on, but the more time I spend in your head the more I realize you're the most in the dark among us, aren't you?"

I have no defense against that. "Where has he been torturing you?"

"It's this room he and the other Dhampirs built. It's down by the water at the base of the chasm. We're in it right now. You and me." His eyes search a spot out of my sight. "And Christina and…Christian."

Christian. I've heard that name before. "Is that—"

"He's my cousin," he says. "The Moroi Belikov was sworn to guard." Somehow his already pale face turns three shades whiter. "And now he's the Strigoi that bit you"

My mind reels so hard that the garden actually shakes. Adrian jumps away from the support beam. "Whoa, how did you do that?"

_I am Divergent. My mind cannot be controlled._

"Tell me," I say, grabbing his shirt to pull him closer. "Tell me everything you know." 

"I don't _know_ anything. I know I got on a plane with my ex-girlfriend and my cousin and when the plane hit the ground we were all knocked unconscious. I woke up in a box, stripped naked, and poked with all sorts of sharp objects for…I don't know how long. I was told to use my power or I'd become obsolete. I refused and eventually I just started begging for death. They shoved me on the streets, hoping I would flip, hoping they could make me turn myself into Strigoi by killing and I damn near did. If you hadn't pulled me off of her…" Adrian is all at once the most lucid and in control as I have ever seen him, and yet his eyes are wild with terror. "He's not any better."

"Who—"

"Dimitri," he says, shaking his head. He runs his hand down his face and I can see fresh sweat bead on his forehead. "He wants me to do the same thing. He wants me to tap into my spirit."

"Spirit?"

His head bobs up and down over and over like my answer requires so many affirmatives that he can't stop saying yes. "I can't explain it to you, no time. But he wants…" He looks up, turning his head to watch something over his shoulder. Something I can't see. "Fuck."

"Adrian?"

"Fuck. Fuck. Fuck."

"Adrian," I shout. My hands close around his shoulders and I start to shake him "What is it?"

He looks up, staring deep into my eyes. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry you have to see this."


	29. Chapter 29: Shadow

**Chapter 29: Shadow**

He's gone in the next breath and before I can call out to him I'm no longer in the garden. My cheek stings as my eyes open. The dull blue light that fills the space reminds me of my earliest days in the Dauntless compound. I had always thought of Abnegation as so stoic and drab. Gray clothes, gray homes, gray food. I had lived a life under a dark storm cloud of not enough light, but no total darkness either. It wasn't until I jumped through the entrance to this place that I realized there could be a world without any light at all. That perhaps Abnegation muted the light, but it never stamped it out completely. The cave that surrounds me now proves that I had grown up in a Heaven and defected into the depths of Hell.

I can feel rope cutting into my wrists before I even try to move them. I'm on the floor, my legs stretched out in front of me and my ankles bound together. My hands are tied behind my back. My head throbs. I feel something wet and sticky on the side of my cheek. Blood.

My vision's blurry as I try to see through the blue haze. Someone is tied up near me. I can move my boot far enough to tap the body and it jerks awake.

"Who's there?" Christina says.

"Are you okay?" I say, knowing she'll recognize my voice the same way I did hers.

"Four." My name is a prayer of salvation on her lips and my heart sinks. I don't think I'll be able to help right any of this wrong now. "Have you seen—"

"Silence," Dimitri says and we both turn toward the sound of his voice. He's a few feet ahead of us, too far away for the blue light to highlight his features. He's nothing more than a shadow shouting at us.

"What makes you think I'm going to do anything you tell me to?" I ask, keeping my voice as loud as possible. We're at the bottom of a very long drop. My voice will mostly be swallowed by distance and if that doesn't do it the echo of the rushing water will muffle the sound. But maybe someone will hear something. Maybe if I just keep talking he'll get fed up with me and make a mistake.

And maybe I'm just done with doing what everyone tells me to do.

"I don't need you anymore, Tobias," Dimitri says and something cold creeps down my spine. "Keep talking and I'll prove it."

I close my mouth, not because I'm afraid of death, but because I know Christina needs me. I can't let him kill me until I know she's away from here and safe.

"Bring him in," Dimitri says.

I hear something heavy dragging across the floor. My eyes blink rapidly, desperate to adjust to the loss of light. My vision focuses just as Eddie and Mikhail step between us and Dimitri. They drop whatever it is they are dragging and step back to the shadows out of my sight.

Adrian lies on the ground like a battered sack of potatoes. He's bleeding from his temple and his knuckles are bruised.

"Adrian!" Christina tries to move, to crawl closer to him but something pulls her back and restrains her. "Adrian, are you okay? Adrian, talk to me!"

Nothing else in the room seems as clear as Adrian does to me. He's dressed in a white t-shirt and light colored pants. That combined with the paleness of his skin seems to make him glow under the soft light.

He groans each time Christina says his name. His eyes blink open the sixth time she shouts it.

"I can't," he says. His voice is a rough rasp of sound like his vocal chords have been gone ten rounds with shattered glass. "I can't. I can't."

He's shivering, shaking, just like he was in Zeke's apartment.

My eyes drift up from his quivering form to Dimitri. I still can't see much of the Guardian, but his eyes are highlighted by Adrian's glow. I always thought angels had eyes that glowed like that, so bright and pure that they shine like the stars.

I often forget the Devil was an angel too.

"Is he ready?" Dimitri asks and yet another person steps forward from the shadows.

"I haven't been able to make any modification since you last asked," Caleb tells him.

The binds around my wrists grow tighter and my muscles stiffen. I need to break free and put my hands around that traitor's throat once and for all.

"What did you do?" I ask.

Caleb keeps his eyes trained on Dimitri, but I see the way his body goes rigid. He's terrified. He's guilty. He's not going to live once my hands are free.

"I gave him the serum but…I don't think you understand what it's doing to him."

"It didn't hurt Tobias," Dimitri says. It's a dismissive, decided fact that slaps me across the cheek. He's been having Caleb develop the serum for this? I was a test subject for this.

And he thinks nothing has _hurt_ me from that?

"Tobias has had years to develop a tolerance to what the serum does to the mind. Furthermore he's…" His eyes drift toward me for a second but snap back to Dimitri with the next blink. "He's Divergent. He has a natural ability to sense the shift in reality. Adrian doesn't. From what I observed, spirit limits his ability to retain mental stability already."

Dimitri turns his glowing eyes to Caleb. "What are you saying?"

Caleb sighs and if he were any other human being I might think compassion was evident in his face. "I think you have to accept the possibility that Adrian could go totally insane if we push him one more time." Maybe he actually does have a heart. "And that will make any further experimentation too skewed to be properly evaluated and beneficial." Nope, he's an evil Erudite bastard.

"He'll be fine," Dimitri decides.

What does he know about it? He faces a fear that he easily conquers every night. One fear. One goal he has to stop. I know how Adrian feels. I _know_ what it's like to have no firm ground to stand on in my own head anymore. At least I can find breadcrumbs to follow back to reality.

Adrian is about to lose himself entirely.

"Adrian," Christina says. I can hear tears in her voice. "Adrian, it's okay."

Dimitri's eyes watch her and he says something to Caleb too softly for me to hear. Caleb leaves the light, leaves me and Christina to worry for Adrian alone as he continues to tell the room he can't. I don't know what he can't do. I don't know that I want to ever find out.

The faint whine of metal wheels turning catches my notice and soon a loud snarl echoes in the room, causing me to jump. I know that sound. I used to think it was a nightmare, a few days ago I decided it was a lullaby.

Eddie and Mikhail return, this time pushing a large silver cage toward the light.

"No," Adrian moans, turning on his side. "I can't. I can't. I can't. I don't know how. I can't."

Inside the cage, thrashing under heavy chains of same silver as the bars around him is Christian, the Strigoi.

My eyes narrow, drawn to his fangs. His mouth is open and hellish growls explode from him as a threat. I hear no warning of pain. I see only a promise of peace. My mouth is dry. My skin is tight. I want him to bite me. I want it more than anything else. My friend is sobbing beside me. The people I've trusted are betraying me. And I don't care about any of that. Tris is in his bite. Happiness is within my reach.

"Do it," Dimitri says. For one startling second I think he's speaking to me. I want to jump to my feet and run to Christian and stick my hand between the bars. I want to lie down at his feet and let him feed from me forever. But I look up and realize he's talking to Adrian.

"I can't," Adrian groans. His face is against the floor, his words muffled by the hard stone. "I can't. Only Lis knows how to do it. I don't have the control. I'm not powerful enough. That's why they let me go. They knew I couldn't help them anyway."

Dimitri keeps his hands locked behind his back as he approaches the giant cage. The beast within it pulls against his binds, flashing his fangs at the Guardian who was once sworn to protect him. I can only see the hard set of Dimitri's shoulders from where I sit, but I can tell he's tensed like a soldier ready to leap from the roof of a building.

"Christian was your friend, wasn't he?" Dimitri says. "Don't you want to see him restored?"

Restored? What could he possibly mean by that?

"He's my cousin. He's like a brother," Adrian says. His voice sounds as heavy as a sinking stone. "I wish I could save everyone, but I can't. No amount of caring can make me strong enough to control it." He raises his head high enough to glare at Dimitri. "I'm not goddamn Peter Pan and these people can't be saved with a shit load of clapping. How much I care doesn't matter."

Dimitri's back tightens further and his head turns slowly in our direction. "Oh really?"

I strain against the rope around my hands. I don't know what's about to happen, but I can feel evil in the air.

"Yes," Adrian says. "Really. I can't do it, Dimitri. I can't!"

"Spirit is your natural talent. You have cultivated the gift of healing quite well for many years now." Dimitri sounds like he's reading from an Erudite text book. I wonder what has happened to the heart I used to hear in his voice. "You instinctually know how to fix torn skin."

Adrian has rolled on to his back. He's watching Dimitri. Though his hands and feet are free of binds he doesn't move. He's too weak to fight. "You're not talking about mending a bone. You're talking about bringing a soul back from the other side. I can't do that."

Dimitri is next to me then, taking tight, measured steps towards Christina. "Can't? Or won't try?"

"Can't," Adrian says as he moves into a sit. Anger is starting to flush his cheeks, giving him some form of strength. "I _can't._"

"Well, I'm sorry then," Dimitri says. Both Adrian and I freeze.

"Sorry?" Adrian asks.

Dimitri nods. He's suddenly too close to Christina, up against her back before any of us realize it. His hands slip around her neck and the loud crack echoes in the dark space as he breaks her bones.

I shout.

She falls limply to the ground. Her head bends at an odd angle away from her body.

Dimitri wipes his hands together. "I'm sorry you can't bring anyone back from the dead."

I try to thrash my leg at him, but the rope is too tightly tied. I'm a snarling, hissing wreck much like the monster in the cage. He killed her. He reached right over and snapped my friend's neck. She didn't do anything wrong. She never did anything but what I begged her to do. She wanted to leave the Pit so many times and I convinced her to stay.

Now she's dead.

I'm screaming every name that I can think of. How could these cowards just sit back and watch him do this? How could they be so cruel?

I shout Adrian's name over and over, but he can't hear me. He's a quaking mess. He keeps repeating, "It's not real. It's not real."

"It _is_ real," I shout. "She's dead because of you!"

I grit my teeth, ripping my skin as I try to stretch the rope that holds my wrists together.

Adrian cowers further at the sound of my voice. His hands grip his hair. His eyes are glued to Christina's still body. "It's not real. It's not real."

"Adrian," Dimitri says. He only says it once and he uses a low, authoritative voice. He waits until the quivering Moroi looks up at him. "This is real, she is dead, and you're running out of time."

Something in those words snaps Adrian into action. He stops shaking, his eyes clear, and he crawls straight for Christina. I don't have time to ask what he's doing, or to break free before he places his hands on her face and closes his eyes. I can't describe what happens next. The glow that circles him grows brighter. The air around me warms. I hear Tris whispering my name. I can smell the ink from Tori's fresh tattoos. I think I see Uriah's smile in the empty space in front of me.

It's like a dream, like a veil has been dropped and I'm no longer fully in the world of the living. I don't know how, but I do know I'm in reality as I witness it.

It's over in a flash. I blink my eyes and the echoes of their lives are gone, replaced by the sharp, violent coughs torn from Christina's chest. I stare in wonder, stunned. Amazed. I can't believe what I see.

Adrian is on his knees, his hands framing her face as she tries to catch her breath. His thumb slides along her cheekbone with gentleness. His eyes are filled with concern. He's no longer weak. He's no longer unsure. I can see a shining strength in every inch of him. He holds her until she finds the energy to hold herself again.

My breath is lodged in my throat as she stalls and stares into his eyes. Something is so intimate about the moment that I feel my cheeks grow warm from watching it, but I can't look away. I'm struck by too much awe to look away.

He healed her.

No.

He brought her back from death.

She was dead.

And Adrian brought her back to life.


	30. Chapter 30: Fall

**Chapter 30: Fall**

Adrian lasts another minute before he slumps against Christina. She finds the strength to hold them both up even though she's just been reborn.

I'm sitting on the floor a few feet from them too stunned to move. I'm not even certain I'm breathing. "What just happened?" I ask as someone cuts the rope from my hands. I'm too dazed to care to fight anyone.

Christina was dead. Now she's alive.

How is that possible?

"Take them to his room," Dimitri says.

Eddie steps around me and grabs one of Adrian's arms. Christina weakly tries to fight him off, but Mikhail joins him and she lists towards the ground as if everything is finally catching up to her. Janine and Alberta are on her then, lifting her up and carrying her behind the men.

I remain on the ground.

"What just happened?" I repeat. I don't know what else to say.

Dimitri stands with his back to me. I can see his hands clasped together with white knuckles.

"What did Adrian just do? What did…what did _you_ just do?"

He's silent. I have all the answers to these questions, but my mind refuses to accept them as reality. Dimitri killed one of my best friends and then Adrian reversed it. The world is inside out and upside down and I'm spinning in the center with no clear destination for landing.

"It won't work."

The air chills around me at the sound of that voice. Christian is no longer thrashing in his cage. Instead he is smiling, gazing at Dimitri like Jeanine once looked at me.

"Adrian just proved with enough motivation he can do anything," Dimitri says.

I rub my wrists, reaching down to untie my legs.

Christian laughs deep in his throat. "Adrian just proved that he leads with his heart. Which is why she threw him away. He couldn't turn her back then, when he had every opportunity in the world. You threatening him isn't going to light more of a fire under him."

"What are you talking about?" I say. My words are a syringe that I force into their conversation like a needle passing through skin. "How did he do that?"

Dimitri wants nothing to do with me, but Christian watches me with delight. He's all too eager to share these secrets with me. "Adrian's magic is spirit. He has the ability to heal the living…and to bring back a life that has been recently ended."

My eyes blink once, twice, I lose count of how many times I blink without a clear thought in my head. "Magic?"

Christian's eyes are sinister as they track Dimitri who walks further away from me. "All Moroi have a talent with magic. I," he says, wiggling his fingers, "use to control fire."

"Use to?"

"Strigoi taint the sanctity of magic. They trade these natural abilities for unnatural strength and immortality," Dimitri says.

Christian's lip is lopsided as he stares at Dimitri. He finds this conversation amusing in some way. "She won't let you get close enough to even try, you know that right? She only let him live to fuck with you. She likes the idea of you down here…desperate for a cure."

"Stop it," Dimitri says.

"Who is she?" I ask, shoving to my feet.

"Go upstairs and wait in Adrian's room," Dimitri says.

"No."

Christian laughs.

Dimitri spins around. His face is set with calm reserve, but I can see a wild anger in his eyes. It should scare me. Any other person might be terrified.

Dimitri has never appeared in my fear landscape.

I don't anticipate him every showing up there.

"Go, Tobias," he insists.

"No," I say with a sharp shake of my head. "You're going to explain yourself."

"He won't explain anything," Christian taunts. I hear the heavy chains drag against the floor of his cage. He presses his face to the bars and red streaks begin to bleed into his white flesh. "She likes it too much to turn back, Dimitri. You should just take her offer."

My heart's in my throat. "Offer? What offer? Who are you talking about?"

Christian's flashing red eyes turn to me. "Rose."

The word hangs in the damp cave air, clinging to every surface. Rose. Christian, a Strigoi, knows about Rose's current condition. Christian says she doesn't want to change, that she's given Dimitri an offer.

Dimitri has seen Rose.

"She's one of them, isn't she?" I say.

Dimitri's lips are a thin, dark line. His eyes are two black spheres that drill through my skull as he stares at me.

"One of us?" Christian laughs. "She's practically leading us. She's the one who turned me. She's the one who talked Lissa into playing along. Hell, she's the one who tortured Adrian."

The ground beneath me feels unsteady. My eyes are fixed on Dimitri who remains as still as the stone of the walls around us.

"Why haven't you killed him?" I ask, nodding toward Christian. There's still one piece missing, one fact I'm starting to realize, but need confirmed. "Why are you keeping the Strigoi alive?"

Dimitri says nothing.

"He needs me for practice. He thinks that weak-willed little bastard is going to grow a pair," Christian says.

"Adrian? Is that possible?" I've given up speaking to Dimitri, accepting that the monster in the cage will tell me everything I want to know. "I thought you said he could bring back people who are recently dead. How can he restore you? You've been dead for too long."

"I'm not dead at all," he says. "I'm somewhere in between. And yes, it can be done. Just ask Dimitri. He knows better than any of us that it _can_ be done."

My eyes search the shadows as Dimitri falls further away. "What's he talking about?"

"Didn't he tell you?" Christian asks. I feel like an initiate being dangled over the ledge to the chasm. I know the words on Christian's tongue are the same as the venom in his bite. It is poison masquerading as truth, but I'm desperate for understanding and Dimitri refuses to offer me anything.

"What?" I ask.

"He was one of us once," Christian says, a sneer replacing the smile on his lips. "He was a Strigoi. Ruthless, lethal…brilliant. He killed hundreds, practically led an army of our kind."

Every bone in my body suddenly weighs a thousand tons. I can't move. I can't think. Dimitri was a Strigoi? Dimitri was an evil creature that tormented and killed innocent people?

"Lissa turned him back, but I don't think we ever fully go back, do we?"

Dimitri glares at the vampire.

"Didn't think so. The old Dimitri never would have killed an innocent for results."

"Don't assume you know anything about any version of me," Dimitri says. His voice is so unexpected that I flinch at the sound. It's low and gritty, forced out of his lungs like he tried to suck the words back in even as he spoke. "I have always been willing to do what I must for her."

Christian is practically buoyant, his eyes shining as Dimitri takes the bait. "Even when you tried to kill her?"

I gasp. "You—"

"Yes," Dimitri says, cutting my question short. "I was once evil like you, and I tried to kill the one thing I love in this world. Just as you are now willingly doing to Lissa."

Christian shrugs and I can tell the movement costs him comfort as he shifts under the confines of the chains. "Lis took some…persuading, but she's more than happy to help now."

Lis…Lissa. I've heard that name a lot lately. First from Adrian and now from both of them. Eddie said she was their Queen. He said she was the Moroi Rose was sworn to guard.

Adrian said she was like him…

"She has spirit too, doesn't she?" I conclude, glancing between both of them.

Christian nods. "I can see why he keeps you on a tight leash."

His words boil under my skin, igniting my blood "How long have you known all of this?" I shout at Dimitri. "How long have you been keeping this from me?"

"I found out the other night, when you were attacked. Rose approached me with a proposal that I respectfully declined before dispatching her guards and taking Christian hostage."

"But before then, you had to have known something. You had to have assumed—"

"Yes," he confirms. His voice is calm, devoid of all emotion. "I suspected Lissa, or Adrian's involvement from the moment I arrived in the future."

"Why? How?"

"Compulsion," Christian offers with a smug, self-satisfied smile.

"I don't—"

"Compulsion is only something a Moroi has the ability to do. Strigoi have no magic, no gift with compelling. Their bite will put you in a drug induced state, but not compel you to forget them."

"How are you compelling the entire city?" I ask.

"Lissa is pretty powerful. She compels everyone to visit her at least once a day," Christian says. He points a long, pale finger at me. "You used to visit more than you were required. I remember you. You were one of the eager ones. One of the junkies."

My stomach heads up and my heart drops down and somewhere in the middle of my body they collide and I feel like I'm about to turn inside out.

"Stop," Dimitri says, but Christian is enjoying himself too much. He's found the weakness in my armor and he's going to jab the knife straight through my heart, but only after he's had his fun.

"Yes," he says, eyes glowing so vibrantly that they might as well be flames. "You're one of the ones who recruited others for feeding so we'd bite you twice in one day. You never even bothered leaving her chamber. You'd just lay on the floor, twitching and drooling…and shitting on yourself."

I stumble back, shocked to the root of my being. I want to shout at him that he's a liar. I can't believe what he says. But already I know I'm aching for him to bite me. I've been staring at his fangs this entire time, itching for a taste of Heaven.

I know I would easily lie at his feet forever in that state if it meant I got to stay with her.

"Enough," Dimitri says, yanking Christian forward to slam his faces against his bars. The Strigoi hisses, snarling and batting the Guardian away.

I'm lost to a world of self-loathing and disgust.

Dimitri grabs my arm and I don't resist. I wonder when the ground will finally split apart and swallow me whole. Is it too much to ask for death to just take me already?

Living has never been an easy task for me.

"Come on," Dimitri says. He pulls me toward the exit, toward the slope that will lead us back to the surface.

I can still hear Christian's taunts. He warns that Rose won't make such an offer twice.

I can still feel need in my veins.

"It is not weakness to want to return to the one we love, Tobias," Dimitri says. We're wandering through total darkness, winding around stones with nothing but the echo of water dripping to guide us.

"That's not Tris I want," I say. "It's a lie."

"All of life is different degrees of dishonesty. We believe what we must to survive."

I feel acid in the back of my throat and I bend over there in the darkness and heave. I feel thick bile purge from my throat. Dimitri lets go of me, giving me space. I remain locked in place until the spasm passes. I wipe the back of my hand across my mouth.

"Tris would be disgusted by me."

"Five years ago I was taken prisoner by a pack of Strigoi who attacked Rose's school in the middle of the night. I was transformed into one them. I lost my soul. I lost my heart. And Rose fought across countries and all sorts of monsters to find me."

"To save you," I say.

"No," he counters. "To kill me."

My heart is beating rapidly and all at once stalls. "Kill you? But I thought—"

"No one had ever heard of the cure. Spirit was still a foreign element, too young in the stages of exploration to be understood. No, Rose didn't set out to find me to heal me, but she did set out to save me. She knew I, the real me, the me that I lost when I was changed, would never be able to live with knowing I had become that. I'd trained my entire life to kill those monsters and I had become one. Rose did as any of us Dhampir are trained to do. Eliminate evil from this world."

"But she didn't succeed. You're alive. You're restored."

It's odd speaking to a wall of blackness. In some ways I feel like I'm trapped inside my own mind, talking to my own thoughts. Being lost inside simulations so much recently, I had forgotten that thoughts start out as empty as this cave. Just words that we manifest into shapes to consider real.

"It was not from lack of trying," he says. "She stabbed me, in the chest with a silver stake. She just didn't hit hard enough in. I was stunned, but, not killed. Soon after I decided to return the favor. I plotted her death. I tormented and stalked her every breath. And all the while she had gained information about reviving a Strigoi. While I was trying to end her life, she was working to bring me back."

My hands close into fists. I would crawl through a desert of broken glass to bring Tris back from death.

"Life is all about perception," Dimitri says. "If I have taught you anything, if my time here with you has had any affect, I hope that it is to teach you to keep your eyes open. If I had not been so blind, I could have prevented all of this from happening."

"How? The Strigoi knew where to hit. They built a time machine all so they could bring Lissa here. You couldn't have known any of that."

"That's not true. I, and Rose, were part of an elite team of Dhampirs who helped end the Strigoi virus completely. Lissa healed everyone she could. Those who refused to be changed, we killed. We were celebrating two years of not a single Strigoi sighting when they were taken."

"You missed one?"

"Apparently."

I don't ask why he's willing to tell me this now. I have lived a life of secrets. I recognize the corner that we back ourselves into with lies. It's a structure built with too thin floors. A delicate balance. And it is easy to remain silent until everything tumbles down. He no longer has reason to keep secrets from me.

He's embracing his fear.

He's no longer One. Now he's Zero.

"So if Adrian can't heal her…?" I can't finish the thought.

"I am prepared to do what I must."

He takes a step to my right and I hear something crack. It's not unlike the snap that sounded when Christina's neck broke, but it is louder, thicker.

"What was that?" I ask, reaching forward in the darkness.

Dimitri is no longer in front of me.

"Rule number one," a female voice says. "Never hesitate."

Everything moves quickly and yet time stands still. In the next breath a blinding light illuminates the hall. I see Dimitri slumped over on the floor. His head hangs at an unnatural angle. Three Strigoi surround me and the woman from Dimitri's fears, his Roza, stands in front of me. Her red eyes gleam with the promise of death.

I'm tempted, so very, very tempted to beg her to kill me.

"Tobias!"

Someone in the light above is calling my name. It distracts me from the threat of the Strigoi. It grows louder, more insistent, tugging me away from this place. The harder I try to focus on the cave, the less I can see of those around me. The light grows more intense, everything is washed in white. A high-pitched sound rings in my ears. My brain is suddenly too big for my skull. My hands clasped the sides of my head, desperate to keep it from exploding. The noise is getting louder, higher. I begin to shake.

"Tobias," a voice repeats. "I need you to look at me, man. Come on, focus on my finger."

The screeching whine begins to clear and more noises rush in. I hear beeping, and voices shouting. Things near me are being thrown around with clangs and bangs.

"Come on, Tobias," the voice over me, the voice inside the light urges again. I realize I know that voice. I haven't heard it in six years.

"Uriah?" I say. My voice sounds strange. It sounds like a waded ball of paper that is unwrapping in my throat. My mouth is dry, my jaw is heavy. My muscles pinch and pull as if they have forgotten how to move.

The light clears and my eyes narrow on the finger held a few inches from my face. I track back and forth and up and down.

"You're good," the voice says and I blink a thousand times when I see his face.

It can't be. It simply can't be.

"Uriah," I whisper.

He smiles. God, that smile. I remember that smile. He was so easy with it back then. He seems so quick with it now.

"Yep," he says. "Welcome home."


	31. Chapter 31: Dawn

**Chapter 31: Dawn**

I'm in a bed covered in tight white sheets with wires stuck into my wrists and neck. There are beds in front of me and beside me, all the same as mine, all occupied with bodies.

Uriah holds a clipboard in his hands. He makes notes of computer screens above me. He never stops talking, but I can't hear much of what he says. That's not true. I'm hearing it, but I'm not processing it.

He tells me that I've woken from a three month simulation. I volunteered to help rehabilitate a coma patient—the man who is in the bed to my left, who I cannot see from where I lie. He tells me my memories will return slowly at first and then all at once. That I have to just keep breathing. The simulation world is meant to feel so real that reality will feel strange for a little while.

I stare at the ceiling, realizing it's not dark gray stone above me.

"Where am I?" I ask.

"You're on a military testing facility in the backwoods of Montana," he tells me. "But if anyone on the outside ever asks, you're vacationing at a castle called St. Vladimir's."

My eyes cross and I pinch the space between them. True to his words details began to infiltrate my mind. I remember my childhood in Chicago. I remember enlisting in the military when I turned eighteen. I rose quickly through the ranks during my basic training thanks to my ability to focus my mind with the newest training technology. That's when I met—

"Tris," I say as a wave of images fills my mind.

I see her. She's a scientist in the program, a fellow recruit. She looks gentle and kind, but she kicks my ass whenever I talk her into a fight. We spend years together developing the serums and techniques to help patients trapped by mental trauma. It's a passion of hers and she becomes a passion of mine. When the facility we were stationed at is bombed, she's trapped inside her own mind, unable to wake up.

That was the first time I underwent a simulation. It took me six months to wake her up.

I go under two more times. Once to help a soldier named Tori, and once to help Uriah.

"I thought you were dead," I say.

He continues to check my vitals. "That's normal for the sim. Your mind is always trying to get back here, no matter how hard you've trained it to focus. Bet you thought your wife was dead too."

He says it so casually and for a moment I laugh and nod my head. Then it hits me. I'm _married _to her. She's alive and she's my wife. And…

"We have a daughter."

He nods, making a note on his clipboard. "Yep. Mini Mi is in here just about every day. Completely against regulations, but I'm pretty sure your wife can charm the pants off snakes. Plus it doesn't hurt that your dad runs the place and your girl has him wrapped around her little finger."

I flinch as memories continue to unlock. There are gates, walls inside my mind that have kept a river at bay and now they are wide open. My head is flooded with too much information. I had a normal childhood, a loving family. My father and mother visit once a week for dinner. I followed my father's footsteps when I enlisted into the Army. I actually look up to and admire the man.

"Why did I think he beat me?" I ask. It's more a rhetorical question, but Uriah stops what he's writing to ponder it.

"I believe when you were in Tris' simulation it's something her mind came up with. She invented the future. Your mind somehow always brings you back there. I think it's your way of keeping her close."

As he explains it I realize that I'm not in the same time that I thought I was. The year is 2014. Time has a number and I know it. It's December and cold. Snow is probably on the ground. I missed Thanksgiving. I know what Thanksgiving is and I missed it.

"Don't worry, man," Uriah says, laying a hand on my shoulder. "Eventually you'll level out. I'll finish up the paper work while you do some stretching. We'll put you through a stress test in a bit and then okay you for release."

I understand everything he just said. Not just that the words are ones in my vocabulary, but I know what he's talking about. I know the eventually my mind will accept my memories and not focus on them as I am right now. I'll be able to function normally. I need to move my body, make sure all my organs are working properly and then I'll be allowed to go home.

"Okay," he says. "I'm going to take this up to Donna. You get started on the warm ups. I'll be back in about five."

I nod, already stretching my arms. The team around the man next to me walks away with Uriah. I lean over to get a better look at him.

Dimitri.

He's the same, but he's different. A bright pink scar runs down the right side of his face. He's still just as big, every inch of him still covered in muscles, but there's something so weak about him. I decide it's the look in his eyes. He's distant and disturbed. His face is relaxed. He looks like he's staring at the ceiling and seeing nothing.

"Welcome back, General Belikov," a nurse says, pressing her finger to his throat.

"Is he going to be okay?" I ask.

She startles but recovers quickly with a smile. "Yes, thanks to you. His memories will return more slowly than yours. He was in a coma for a long time. Everyone had written him off. But not you."

An odd sense of pride runs through me. She's congratulating someone who is not me, someone I am still learning to be, but I'm proud to be that man just the same.

"Can you tell me why he was in a coma?" I ask, gingerly climbing out of bed and continuing my stretching.

She flips through pages on her clipboard. "Says here an explosion of some sort. I don't know if he was like this before or after we detained him."

Detained him? "You mean…he's not one of us?"

"Nope," she says, tapping buttons on a screen over Dimitri's head. "General Belikov here led a massive strike against a neutral compound on American soil."

My stomach twists in knots. "So he's our enemy?"

"In a matter of speaking."

"What does that mean?"

"The government wrote General Belikov off years ago and as far as Russia is concerned, he defected or died and they covered up his little transgression."

"So?"

"So," she says, making more notes on her clipboard. "He's now property of St. V's."

Those knots in my abdomen tighten. "Property? Are you saying you own him?"

"Again, that is semantics, but yes. St. V's research facility has ownership over his mind. And with the data we have been able to collect from your recent simulation with him, we will be able to help more people with his condition."

She excuses herself and I lean against my bed. Dimitri's eyes blink open and closed but he might as well be a carrot with wires sticking out of him. Property. The word tastes bad in my mouth. I know that the Chicago of tomorrow is pure fiction, but I'm still reminded of the compound where David and his colleagues ran their experiments.

I shove off of the bed, moving slowly. My legs aren't used to walking. My muscles have been resting for too long. I lean down to whisper in Dimitri's ear. "I'm sorry I couldn't save her for you."

His eyes close and I can see tension in his face. I wonder what he saw in the simulation. I wonder if it was the same for him.

I wonder if his Rose really exists here, or if she was simply his failed mission that he felt guilty for wanting to see through.

Uriah returns in a handful of minutes and walks me to a connecting room.

"We're going to run some basic vision and audio tests and then I'll walk you through the serum detox talk. Not that you need it. You've been through these things more than anyone else in history."

I touch my thumbs to each of my fingers, working from the pinky to the pointer several times. I glance up when he says that. "What do you mean?"

"Until you woke up the world record for simulations survived was three. Held by you, of course."

"This made four?" My chest swells a little at that thought.

Uriah nods. "Yep. And please, I know Marcus is probably going to insist that you're fine and that you've got nothing to worry about, but make this the last one, okay? Most test subjects lose all grip with reality after one round in an extended joint sim. You've gone through four. Give your mind a rest."

I nod. A rest sounds like the perfect future to me.

He asks me a series of questions that I'm surprised I can answer without much thought. Who was the sixteenth president? What is the capital of California? At what temperature does water boil? He moves into personal questions then, more subjective answers. What is my favorite color? Where do I feel most safe? And what is my most treasured memory?

I can answer everything but the last. I'm torn between the day I married Tris and the day our daughter was born. I'm struck straight to the center of my heart as both memories run through my mind.

I no longer think the word amazing fits right in my mouth. I have been more amazed in the past several hours than I can ever remember. And I need a new word for it.

I had nothing when I slept. Nothing.

And now I have everything. I have more than I could ever hope for.

I'm humbled with every breath I take.

Uriah gives me a form to sign and stamps it. Then he's holding out his hand for me to shake.

"Welcome back to lucidity," he says with a light laugh.

I feel his laughter in my own chest. I know humor again. I recognize happiness.

"Come on." He leads me down stairs and through the heavy metal doors.

At one point I see the room where I woke up. Dimitri is still lying in his bed. His eyes are still closed. Uriah walks me to a security room, handing my release papers to the head guard.

"Tobias," the man says. I know him, but I don't know him. I offer him a smile. "We were placing bets to see if you ever woke up."

"What?" I ask.

Uriah sighs. "You're so clever and funny Eric, can you open the door already? Man has a family to get back to. Unlike you and your wild nights of Hungry Man Meals and reruns of Antiques Roadshow."

The man glares, punching in a code on the counsel. "It's an educational show."

Uriah nods, pulling the door open when it buzzes. "Uh huh, so is porn."

My eyes widen as I follow Uriah out the door. Eric shouts something that makes Uriah laugh.

"Good old Eric, forever bitter, alone, and expending all of his energy on the wrong outlets."

Eric. He was different in my world.

This is my world.

He was different in the simulation. And yet he was very much the same.

"That will clear up eventually," Uriah says, seeming to read my mind as we walk through the front lobby. "The déjà vu shit. You're totally Dorothy right now and we're all leaning in your aunt's window like middle-aged creepers who for some reason befriended a teenage girl and were hoping she woke up from her bump on the head."

I don't know if it's a good thing or a bad thing that I understand exactly what he's referring to.

"Daddy!"

I stop at the sound of the tiny, loud voice. Something about it reminds me of the minute Tris hit the net in Dauntless. It's nothing special. Just a word. Just a voice. Five letters.

And yet I know I'm forever changed by it.

I turn slowly, seeing her a second before she launches herself into my arms.

Mina.


	32. Chapter 32: Home

**Chapter 32: Home**

She looks like she did in the sim, only her hair and her eye color are changed. She has Tris' blonde hair and my blue eyes. She's still tiny, but strong. Her arms tighten around my neck and drop my face into her small shoulder. She smells like sunshine. How is it possible to smell like sunshine?

"Okay, okay, let your father take a breath."

Holding Mina in my arms is nothing compared to hearing that voice. I stagger back a few steps. I lift my face from my daughter's shoulder and look into the eyes of my wife.

Tris.

My knees feel ready to buckle. My heart is hammering against my ribs.

She's so beautiful I'm struck to the bone. She's older. The Tris in my mind was only sixteen, still growing into adulthood. The Tris in front of me is a woman. Her body curves and sways as she walks towards me. I don't dare blink my eyes. I barely allow breath to move into my lungs.

Six seconds and she's in front of me. Her hand touches my cheek and my body threatens to collapse.

"Hi," she says. Her eyes sparkle as she smiles.

I try to return the greeting but no sound will come out of my mouth.

"Mommy," Mina says, leaning back to rest between us. "You broke Daddy."

Tris laughs. The sound sends tingles up my spine. "Don't worry, sweetheart. I'm sure we'll figure out how to fix him." Her thumb traces my bottom lip.

I lean forward with no conscious thought to move. My lips are pressed to hers; my hand is around her waist, pulling her closer to me. Mina is trapped between us and she whines about being squished.

My lips curl up as I press them to Tris' again and again and again. I will never be able to make up for lost time, never be able to kiss her enough.

Mina makes a gagging sound and Tris breaks away with a sharp laugh. Her joy is infectious and I find myself laughing. My hands tickle Mina's sides and I pretend to bite her neck until she is giggling so hard she can't find the breath to tell me to stop.

"Alright, Eaton clan," Uriah says. "Get out of here with your PDA of perfection already before we all start puking rainbows or some shit."

"Ugh," Tris groans.

"Uncle Uri said a bad word!" Mina points at him. "You owe me a dollar."

I laugh as he pulls out his wallet and hands her a dollar bill. "Being around your child is expensive."

"It's your bad habits that are expensive, not our child," Tris points out. She kisses him on the cheek. "Thanks for that call."

He nods.

I shake his hand again. "Thanks," I say. "Tell your brother I want to see him ASAP."

His eyes narrow and he tilts his head to the side. "My brother?"

"Yeah, Zeke. Tell Zeke we should get together and …I don't know whatever it is we do here."

He looks to Tris, who is staring at him. They both look like they are trying to solve a complicated math problem.

"Zeke?" Uriah repeats.

"Yes," I nod. "Your older brother, Zeke. He's my best friend."

"Oh," Tris says. Her hand is over her mouth and she glances at me with sincere regret in her eyes. "He's from the simulation."

If I weren't holding Mina I might have dropped onto my ass right then and there. "Zeke doesn't exist here?"

I assumed after seeing Dimitri, Uriah, Tris, and even Eric that everyone in the simulation was brought through from my mind.

"I'm an only child, man," Uriah says. "Always wanted an older brother, though."

"Come on," Tris says, resting a hand on my shoulder. "Let's get you home and get some rest."

Mina walks between us on the way to the car. Every few steps she holds our hands and tries to swing. Tris and I begin to swing her ourselves, much to her delight. She shouts for us to swing her higher.

She gets that from her mother.

I'm quiet on the drive home. We live in Montana. I've never heard of Montana. The word sounds like a mountain, and that's exactly what I see. Nothing is flat, the roads and distant lines roll up and down as we travel. Everything is green. Trees and grass replace the concrete world I'm familiar with. We pass several cars, but no cities. She turns down a dirt road from the highway. A few miles down I see lights in the distance.

"That's Jasper," Tris says. "It's the closest town to our place. Not much, but there's a mall and three Starbucks." She's told some sort of joke. I can tell by the way she pauses for me to laugh. I don't get it so I just stare at the lights.

"What should we have for dinner?" Tris says, glancing in the rearview mirror to see Mina in the backseat.

"Pizza," Mina shouts, waving her arms in the air.

"Sound good to you?" Tris asks.

I shrug. Nothing sounds good to me right now. My stomach has been out of commission for three months. My body will be full on nutrition for at least another twenty four hours.

Also, other than a vague memory, I have no real concept of what pizza is. I know what it is made of, but I can't recall how it tastes.

"Well I know what we should have for dessert," Tris says, smiling wide.

I can't help but smile too.

"Ice cream," she and Mina shout at the same time. She looks to me and I try to keep my smile in place, but it falls ever so slightly and she sees.

"What's wrong?" she asks. "Since when don't you like ice cream?"

Since I don't know what it is. Since I was hoping you'd say chocolate cake.

She drives straight home, saying we'll order the pizza when we get there. I'm amazed to remember such a convenience exists in the world.

It's another ten minutes till we reach a small grouping of houses. We live on the second street, the third house down from the corner. Each house looks identical but for very minor details. Ours has a front lawn with grass and two trees. The front door is bright blue. The curtains that hang in the front window are a soft yellow. Once we're parked in the drive way I need a moment to stare at the house. She understands, she's been through this with me before. She and Mina climb out of the car and give me some time to adjust.

The two-story white house looks warm and comfortable. Home. The word keeps echoing in my mind. I know this is my home. I remember the day Tris and I bought it. I remember mowing the front lawn every Saturday morning. I see the front door and my chest aches with security.

This is where I live. This is where I belong.

This is my _home_.

I'm not sure how long I sit there but eventually a man walks by the car, carrying a large red bag. Tris opens the front door and hands him some money in exchange from two big, flat boxes. Pizza. I know that pizza is contained in those boxes. The man returns to his car, his eyes briefly falling on me when he walks by. Tris is standing in the doorway with an enthusiastic Mina bouncing around her.

So many ideas are at odds inside me right now. I feel as though I'm betraying my friends. Zeke, Shauna, Christina…none of them exist here. They are living in a pit underground, eating oatmeal and sleeping on beds that feel like stone. Maybe they aren't real, but they were real to me. Maybe I only spent three months in there with them, but I have a lifetime of memories in that world. So much of it still feels like the truth.

So much of this world seems like the lie.

Tris offers me a small, sad smile and shuts the door. She's not going to force me to be her Tobias just yet. She knows I need to figure this out on my own. Maybe it's what makes me so good at the sims. I don't try to force my mind to go any particular way. I just let it find its own path. And I'm able to do that because I have her. Her support keeps me sane.

I head into the house once the night has grown so dark that I feel like I'm back at the bottom of the Pit. Tris and Mina are on the couch in the living room, watching a movie about talking cars. A movie. Cartoons. Such foreign things that are all too familiar to me now. Mina lies across Tris' lap. Her eyes are closed and her mouth is open as she sleeps.

"There's still some pizza on the table," Tris says, waving toward the dining room. "I can warm it up for you if you want."

I shake my head, leaning over to kiss the top of hers. "I'll eat it cold, thanks." I touch my hand to Mina's hair before wandering over to the table. It's an odd thing, eating alone. I used to feel alone as I ate in the Dauntless compound, but only now with nothing but four walls around me do I really know what eating alone is like. This is not unlike my life in Abnegation. How strange that returning to the past has returned me to an isolated world again.

The pizza isn't half bad. Some warmth is still in the slices as I eat. I'm on my third piece when Tris joins me. Her hands touch my shoulders, thumbs kneading the knots at the base of my neck.

"I missed you," she whispers into my ear.

I have no words to express what I've felt without her. Missing her doesn't go far enough.

"I almost didn't make it back," I say, wiping my lips with my napkin.

Her arms wrap around me, resting on top of my shoulders. Her face presses against the side of my neck. "Please tell me this was the last one. The research isn't worth it, Tobias. I'm selfish, I know, but I don't care if anyone else can be saved. Not if it means losing you."

She's different than my Tris.

She is my Tris.

I turn in my chair and pull her on to my lap. My fingertips trace her cheeks, her brows, the curve of ears, and the line of her jaw. No inch of her is left undiscovered. My eyes can't see enough of her. She has a wrinkle at the edge of her right eye that I don't remember. Something that etched itself into her skin while I was gone. I'm suddenly jealous of time. It has walked beside her in my absence. What I wouldn't give to have every minute, every second back.

Her hands explore my face followed by her lips.

I close my eyes.

Her lips touch mine and my system goes into shock. I feel as though I'm leapt from a moving train in the middle of the night with no idea where I'll land. But I'm not afraid. My Tris is with me. I don't care if I never land at all.

My arms are around her, my hands spreading wide to touch every inch of her I can. She deepens the kiss, touches my soul with her warmth. I had no idea how cold I was. I am a frozen lake splitting open under the rays of her sun. I feel her slide more comfortably across my lap. She rocks gently against me. Her nails scratch against my scalp, sending electric tingles down my spine.

Too much. Not enough.

Never enough.

Is it possible to die of pleasure? I've wanted this for so long. I chased monsters for a taste of this in Hell. My heart hurts as it beats steadily in my chest. I'm in agony from this happiness. It feels too good. Too perfect.

Too real.

"Mommy?"

Our lips separate with a sudden breath. It's only then that I process how excited I am. Only then do I realize how easily she awakens me, brings me to life.

Her cheeks are flushed and she laughs softly. "Yes sweetheart?"

I hear Mina asking her for something, but I don't pay attention to it. My hands have a mind of their own, slipping up her back to wind through her long hair. My lips are too hungry to stay away from her skin, pressing under her jaw.

"In a minute," Tris says. "Go put on your pjs and we'll be right there."

I hear the rapid thump of our daughter's feet running down the hall to her bedroom. I'm not distracted from what I want to do.

"Ugh you make it so hard to focus sometimes," Tris says. She sighs, but I hear the smile in her voice.

It makes me smile against her throat. "It's one of my talents."

"One of many," she agrees, tugging my face away from her so she can look into my eyes.

I wonder what other talents this other me has. Four was good with knives. Tobias was good with keeping secrets. I don't know what this version of me is good at.

Other than loving this woman in my arms.

That's all I ever need know how to do, I realize. I could live a thousand lives of doing nothing but loving Tris.

Mina's voice interrupts us once more. "I'm ready!"

Tris presses one last kiss to my lips. "Come on, if we don't read her a story she'll never go to sleep."

She climbs off me and I grab her hand as I stand. It seems like such a simple gesture, holding her hand. I never did it enough in our fabricated future world.

"Have you picked out a book?" Tris calls out as we enter the hall.

"Yes," Mina shouts back.

Her tiny voice tickles me. I love the sound of it. "She didn't talk in the sim," I say, forgetting myself and speaking my thoughts.

"I'm not surprised," Tris says. Her thumb strokes the back of my hand. "She wasn't talking when you went into the sim. You tried." She laughs. "Damn did you try to get her to say something before you went under, but she wasn't ready."

My chest aches all of the sudden. "I missed her first word?"

"Yeah," Tris says. Her lips turn down into a sympathetic frown.

"What was it?" 

"Up."

My momentary sadness is replaced with silly glee and I laugh. Of course our daughter would be so fascinated with defying gravity. She gets that from her mother.

"If it's any consolation her second word was daddy."

It is and isn't consoling to know my daughter's second word was for me. I was asleep, wandering through a world where she doesn't exist instead of being here to hear her say it.

I was right when I told Zeke I was never meant to be a father.

"Alright," Tris say, pulling me into Mina's room. "What did you select for your reading pleasure tonight?"

She holds up a book with a castle on the cover. I don't remember ever seeing a castle in this world or the last, but somehow that image looks familiar.

Must just be more stored memories coming forward in my mind.

"Which one is this?" Tris says, settling on the bed beside Mina.

I awkwardly stand in the middle of the room. I feel like a stranger, watching a private moment.

Mina glances up and waves for me to sit on the other side of her. "Here Daddy," she says, patting the bed.

She's exactly like the Mina in the simulation. She's not about to let me stand back. She's not about to leave me alone.

She wedges herself half on my lap and half on Tris', opening the book between us. Tris reads the while I provide sound effects, much to Mina's delight. The story surprises me. It's about a princess who lives in a spooky castle filled with many different monsters. There are ghosts who haunt her dreams, and snakes that slither under the floor. There's also something that hides in the shadows that she can't ever seem to find.

"This is a kid's book?" I ask. The princess has found more than one dead animal in her bedroom at night and has decided to investigate the monster who is tormenting her.

"You're the one who bought it for her," Tris says, continuing on with the story as if our three year old daughter should be exposed to such horrors.

She turns the page and I see a cage made of silver with a snarling vampire trapped inside.

I pull the book away, tossing it across the room as I stand.

"Mommy!" Mina cowers against Tris who is looking up at me with wide eyes.

We're both out of breath and I realize I'm shaking.

"It's okay," Tris says, to me or to Mina, I'm not sure. "Daddy just needs some rest."

I run my hands over my face. I saw it. I saw him. I saw Christian in that book. Vampires aren't real. It was just a simulation. It's not real.

This is real.

I kneel down to pick up the book. I flip through the pages. There are no monsters now. No shadows or ghosts. No dead animals and vampires. Just a princess waiting for her prince to wake her from a curse.

A small hand touches my cheek. I close my eyes. Guilt is a bitter taste in my mouth.

"I'm sorry Daddy," she says. She kisses my cheek and tells me she loves me.

She loves me.

I don't even know her and she loves me.

Tris tucks her in and tells her goodnight then ushers me from the room. She doesn't ask me what happened, she knows. She leads me down the hall to our bedroom.

Again I am struck by the sensation of feeling like a stranger in my own home. I remember the first night we spent in this room together. I remember the first night we were intimate.

Neither feel as strong or as real as that one night in the compound with the simulation Tris.

"It's okay," she says, seeming to know what troubles me before I say anything. "This is normal. Your mind is trying to figure out what is real. It's understandable that some things carry over."

She coaxes me toward the bed, helping me remove my shirt. I notice I have no tattoo on my side. I touch a shaky hand to the juncture between my neck and shoulder. I can't see, but I know I have no markings in this world.

I'm suddenly sweating. The room is tilting as she walks away from me.

"What's happening?"

"Your body is going through withdrawals," she says. "Not just from the mental stimulus but from all of the chemicals used to keep you sedated while you were under the serum." She returns a few minutes later, carrying a syringe.

My mind sees only a container of simulation serum. I panic, pulling away from her. "What is that?"

"It's okay," she says. She holds up her hands, waiting for me to relax. "Here, see for yourself." She hands me the syringe and my hands are clammy and clumsy as I try to inspect it. "It's just a mild sedative. It won't even put you to sleep. It's just to help detox your body from the need to be fully immersed in the serum."

Everything she says makes sense and I nod to let her know it's okay to put it in my body. I expect her to stick my neck, or my forearm. When she taps the vein at my wrist I'm surprised.

"What are you doing?"

"Your mind was tied to the simulation through a steady stream of serum to your throat," she says, touching a finger to a spot at the base of my neck. "The rest of your body was maintained by chemicals to your wrists." I remember that from the simulation. The Strigoi scars were on my wrists. I wonder if that had anything to do with knowing the machines were connected there.

She taps my wrist again and punctures my skin. It stings more than I anticipated. It damn near hurts. The initial bite from the needle gives way to a flash burn that makes my fingers tingle. The pain is gone in the next breath. Everything is gone. Everything is the same but floating just out of my reach.

"It will make you a little loopy at first," she says from some far off place.

Loopy. I like the sound of that word. It sounds like how I feel. Like the ground is rising up in front of me and will be over my head before I can take my first step.

I laugh. I can't do anything but laugh. I've lost all the weight inside of me that holds me together.

"Tobias?"

Her hands are on my face. Her touch feels so strange. I don't have a face anymore. I don't have any physicality to me, but I feel her touch.

"You're so beautiful," I say. It's a truth that doesn't need to be spoken. Even blind men would be able to see her beauty. But I can't keep anything in anymore. Every piece of me is slipping away and out and around and I'm tumbling back on to the bed with her in my arms.

I taste her. I touch her. I give her everything inside me. Maybe I had it all wrong. Maybe this isn't reality either. Maybe I did die down there in the cave and I'm in Heaven. I'm nothing more than a whisper of energy and I'm merging with hers. She's so good, so pure, so perfect and she's telling me that I am too. My lips explore the surface of her body. My fingers caress the sensitive places within. Each sound she makes sends shocks of pleasure through me, each time she touches me I feel as if my skin is splitting away from my body.

We touch and tease, and make love until neither of us can keep our eyes open. I drift away from the world with Tris lying on top of me, her head over my heart.


	33. Chapter 33: Gray

**Chapter 33: Gray**

It's some time later when I wake up. The darkness of night still shadows our bedroom, and I can sense that the world is still asleep. The initial potency of the drug she gave me has worn off. I'm thankful for that. I now know what a full dose of Peace serum must feel like.

I start to move to the edge of the bed and Tris makes a sound. It's muffled and weak, but I can tell she's protesting my leaving. It's a silly thing, but I smile. She's asleep. She can't possibly know what she's doing. And she's telling me to stay put. I remember why her absence made everything so much more painful in the fictional future. I had spent twenty years alone, but I had known six months of this kind of trust and support. Once she became the other half of me I could never be whole without her. She's satisfied to cuddle my pillow as I pull away and climb out of bed. I press a light kiss to her temple. I will never get tired of touching her with my lips.

I wander through the house, down the hall, stopping briefly at Mina's door to watch her sleep. Whatever Tris gave me has chased my demons away for now and I will fight every day to keep them from touching that little girl. She will be the princess awaiting her prince—never the princess afraid of the dark.

I walk through the living room, toward the kitchen, passing the dining room on my way. Movement catches my eye and I stop. The room looks the same as it had when I ate pizza in it hours ago. The lights are off, but enough blue light from the moon shines through to highlight the furniture. The long narrow table sits in the middle of the room with a china hutch on the side wall.

I continue to the kitchen with an eerie feeling in the pit of my stomach. I'm used to being on guard, or rather the simulation version of myself is. I don't know how this body will do in a fight. I know I was once trained for combat, but that was four extend simulations and six years of marriage ago. I clench my hands into fists. I feel no strength in my limbs. I don't know if that's from lack of exercise, or residual effects of the drug Tris gave me.

I grab a glass from the cupboard, amazed to find I know exactly where to locate such things. I press the glass to the dispenser in the refrigerator door and fill it with water. The house is silent as I sip the cool drink. My thoughts are divided. I wonder how Zeke and Christina are doing. I left just as Strigoi invaded the compound. Did they all survive? Were they turned back into mindless bags of blood for the Strigoi to feed from?

Am I ever going to accept that these people weren't real?

"Four?"

At first I hear my name and assume Tris is calling for me. I dump the remaining water in the sink and head out of the kitchen.

"Four?"

I realize that's not Tris' voice just as I remember this Tris only knows me as Tobias.

"Who's there?" My voice is little more than a whisper. I consider grabbing a knife from the kitchen, but then I think of Mina. If she's playing a game and I don't understand I might end up hurting her.

"Four? Are you here?"

I know that voice. "Christina?"

"Four! Come back here. Where are you? We need you."

I follow her voice to the doorway of the dining room. I stop in the hall an inch from the opening. I can't make myself look inside.

"Four," Christina says. "Please, Four, if you're out there we need you to come back!"

It's not real. It's not real. It's not real.

I rub the sore spot on my wrist. Tris told me it would take time. She told me things would slip through. Maybe I need another dose of that stuff she gave me. Yeah, that's it. I'm having a nightmare because of withdrawals. I need another…

"Bite," I say. No, not bite. She didn't bite me. She stabbed me with a needle.

Just like Jeanine did when she wanted me to forget what was real. Just like Caleb did when he wanted to develop a serum for Dimitri.

Not real. Those people are not real.

This is real. The woman and child on the other side of the hall. The two people who are sleeping soundly in my home, loving me with every breath that the take. That is real.

What's inside this room right now is just a nightmare.

"Four," Christina says. Her voice is agony. Her voice is the constant drip of water on a hard stone floor. Her voice is the burn of muscles as I run in circles day after day, getting nowhere at all.

Her voice is the fear of God alone and feeling a noose around my neck.

"Christina?" I say, turning into the room. The table is gone. The finely painted china in the cabinet is no more.

I step out of my house and into the chasm.

Water roars as it tumbles on top of itself in the corner. My feet slide as I step on to wet stone. The air is chilled to the point that my breath takes shape once it leaves my mouth.

"Four," Christina says. She's on the ground in front of me. She has wounds on her wrists and neck. Blood leaks down her skin, soaking her clothes. I can tell she's weak, near death. She been fed on, drained.

"What's happened?" I ask the ghost. I know she's not real. None of this is real. That doesn't stop the pain that radiates through me. That doesn't ease the need to fight that bubbles in my guts.

"They're going to make me one of them," she says. Her lips stick together as she tries to speak. "They're going to finish drinking me then fill me up with their blood and I'll be one of them."

Christina had a lot of fear when she first joined Dauntless. She feared bugs, killing people, jumping off the train, but her last fear, her strongest fear, was living in a world of shadows. Candors like everything out in the open. Honest and crass and blatant. They don't like the unknown. They fear what a lie covers up.

I can feel her terror as her life begins to fade. She's crossing over into an unknown, she's becoming the nightmare we fought for so long.

"I don't," I say, "I don't know what—"

"Come back here," Christina says. "You gotta come back here."

There is not _real_. I can't just jump off this cliff and into that fake water and land back in the chasm. It doesn't exist.

"I'm sorry," I say. I mean it. I truly am sorry that I invented a word full of such hell. I couldn't give her a happy life to live in this fictitious realm. I tried. So many times my mind tried to make that place better, but I couldn't. No matter how easy I sought to make Christina's life I always ended up right back here.

"He bit you, Four," she says.

My cheek twitches.

"Christian got out and he bit you. You're in a dream. You need to wake up. You have to get back here."

My wrist stings. This is just my mind playing tricks on me. I'm a creature of self-abuse, I realize. I'm only satisfied when I'm inflicting pain upon myself. I don't know if the Tobias before simulations was like that, but I know the Tobias born of simulation is. It's how I find worth, how I define value to my actions. Suffering, agony reminds me I'm alive.

I'm not happy unless I'm depressed.

My mind enjoyed it in there. My body longs to return.

I no longer see a way out of this room.

"He bit you, please Four, you have to believe me. He'll be back any minute to finish the job. He'll kill you too. Please. Wake up!"

What does she see? Does she see me sitting on my, drooling as I live in a perfect world with Tris? Tris. What will Tris find in this room? Me, sitting on my ass, drooling while fight to save Christina.

I am pathetic.

I am worthless.

"Tobias?"

Tris. She's here. Her voice is here. My eyes search the stone wall behind me and find a doorway. Tris stands in the opening, wearing nothing but my shirt. Her hair hangs around her shoulders, wrinkles of worry bend her forehead.

"What's wrong, sweetheart?" she asks. I have no response.

I am wrong.

My mind is wrong.

I stare at her and glance back at Christina. Back and forth, back and forth. I have no idea which world is real and which world I created.

"Do you need another dose?" Tris asks.

"No! He's coming back, don't go back to sleep," Christina says. "Stay awake. Stay with me. Please Four."

"Tobias?"

I no longer have a heart.

I am mindless.

I'm on a speeding train and don't know which way to jump. The end of the line is coming up faster than I want.

"Tobias."

"Four."

I just want to be happy. I want to lie in bed with Tris after we've tucked our daughter in for the night. I want Christina to find love and security. I want Zeke and Uriah reunited and smiling, always smiling.

I want a world without monsters.

I want to wake up every morning and I know what the four walls around me are made of.

I close my eyes, gritting my teeth.

I see Tris, my Tris, my Six, she's sixteen and strong. She wears black Dauntless pants and a gray Abnegation shirt. Her hair is cut short. Her eyes spark as she speaks. "Be brave."

"What is bravery?" I ask. "Bravery did little for you but make you a stiff corpse."

"I am stiff for a reason. I could not let others suffer when I had the power to help them."

"She's not real. You're not real. No one is real."

"_You_ are real, Tobias," she says. "It doesn't matter who you help, or why. It matters that you are true to yourself."

I ache. Every inch of my being aches.

"I'm so tired, Tris."

"Be brave."

"I thought you wanted me to be selfless."

Her lips turn into a small, knowing smile. "Bravery and selflessness are the same thing. You taught me that."

I draw in a sharp breath and she evaporates as I open my eyes. I spare one last glance at the Tris is the doorway.

She knows. She sees what I am going to do. "Tobias!"

The doorway begins to shrink and she shoves against the walls to keep it open. Tears stream down her cheeks. She's in so much pain. I put her in so much pain.

No matter what I do.

No matter what I think is real.

I will _always_ hurt her.

"Please," she says, she's kneeling in what little space is left. She can't enter the room with me. I am saying goodbye forever. "Please, I'm real. This is where you belong. Choose us. Me and Mina. We're your home. We're _real_. Please. Please. Tobias, please." Her words run into, over and on top of each other. It's a blur of sound, but I understand each and every syllable.

I could do it.

I look to Christina. She's so weak she can no longer beg. Soon fangs will grow from her mouth. Soon she'll become a monster.

Why would I want to go back there?

I can stay here.

I can be with Tris. I can hold her in my arms, tell our daughter fairytales each night, and waste away into a peaceful oblivion.

Oblivion.

Dying while living.

What use is happiness if it isn't real? What's the point of a life if it was never really lived?

I have no words for her. I've said goodbye to her so many times that all I can do is break the last inch of my heart from my chest and toss it toward the door as the walls fracture around me. Light encompasses everything and Tris is swept away within it. She's nothing more than the absence of light. Somewhere between black and white—in the lightest hue of gray—is where she'll stay.

Forever.

Be brave.


	34. Chapter 34: Brave

**Chapter 34: Brave **

It takes six seconds.

I know. I count it. Each second is filled with fear.

In the first I can still hear her saying my name, only she's not saying Tobias, she's calling me Four. I'm on my knees on top of a high building. The wind whips across my skin. And Tris' hands are on my shoulders, telling me to jump.

Be brave.

I'm in a box that's closing in around me and I feel her heart beat against my palm. She was so nervous, but so strong. She made me forget where I was.

Be brave.

A gun is in my hand, aimed at the temple of a young girl with brown hair and big brown eyes. She tells me she loves me and I look away. I shoot.

Be brave.

He's staring at me in my reflection. I remember a life where he beat me. I know a life when he was my strongest support. I can't separate one Marcus from the other and I can't stop myself from becoming a man. I am a father. I will make mistakes. I will hurt the ones I love. But I will never be cruel for the sake of my goals. I will never force Mina to be what I want her to be.

I will never see Mina again.

Be brave.

She's standing in a box filling up with water. I tell her to break the glass, but she doesn't. I tell her to jam her jacket into the hose, but what difference will that make? There is no way exit, no escape. If she stops the water she will still run out of air. I have to watch her die. I never saw her die. I saw her smiling, kissing me and promising that tomorrow would be a better future. I saw her body stiff and cold. I never saw the moment in between.

Not until today when the world shattered around her and she was swept away by the explosion.

Be brave.

My eyes clear and one last fear stands above me. Christian. Blood drips from his teeth on to my forehead. He thinks I'm lost to his compulsion. He thinks I want to stay with Tris so badly that I'll sacrifice everyone else for it.

He's wrong.

I am brave.

With speed I must have syphoned from Dimitri in his final moments I reach up and grab Christian's throat. He's caught off guard long enough for me to pull him down. I roll as I throw him, using his body as leverage to get to my feet. I'm woozy and the world tilts to the side but I see that I'm in the simulation chamber.

Weapons. Dimitri kept a supply of stakes near the door.

"You ready for another dose?" Christian says.

My feet are clumsy as I move toward my goal. I know he'll catch me in the blink of an eye. I know he'll bite me and I'll be gone again.

I hear Dimitri in my head. "Stay in motion. He has speed and strength but this is your home, use what you have. And keep your eyes open."

I see a shadow move across the floor. He's striking to my right. I dodge to the left. Christian misses me, diving straight into the mat. He's too eager for a fight, relying entirely on his ability. He's all strength and no skill.

I'm ten feet away.

Five feet.

Three feet.

He's fast, faster than me at my best and I am not near my best right now. He's in front of me. His arms are like steel rods jabbing my chest. I grab his arm, again using him as leverage as I launch my body into a kick. My boot lands against his chin, barely affecting him. I feel pain stab up my leg, shocking my hip.

His hands are on me then, tossing me to the wall like an easily discarded shirt. I land hard. The air is choked from my lungs. My side feels like a thousand tiny needles are stabbing me. A fresh bruise is inking into my skin like a tattoo.

I'm disoriented. Up is down. Christian is snarling, running with the intent to kill me.

I am not afraid of death.

To my left I see the gleam of silver catch the light. I reach, stretch…just a few more inches.

Christian's hands are on my shoulders, pulling me to my feet. He doesn't see the stake in my hand. I spin, plunging the weapon with all my strength into his heart. He freezes. A stunned look locked on his face. He's not dead. Dimitri told me one blow wouldn't do, not with my limited strength. I'm limping, bleeding, aching, burning, but I can still walk. I clutch the stake between both hands, and push. I force him to the wall, use the metal to help me finish the job. My biceps strain and flex. My hands feel ready to split in two. I shove until his eyes roll back in his head and blood is gushing down his chest. I never pull the stake out. I relax back and Christian slides to the floor.

I remember what he said in the cave. I know he helped string me along. I know he helped fabricate the world I thought was real.

I balance on one leg, driving my foot onto the stake. Once. Twice. Three times I slam my foot down on the weapon. I feel a brief resistance and then it pierces through his back, hitting the ground underneath.

Christian is dead.

Tris is gone forever.

In the back of my mind I hear a voice warn that I didn't have to kill him. If I had just stunned him, kept him neutralized maybe Adrian could restore him. That's a big maybe, a risk I can't take. And I know my heart is too twisted to want to save him. He tortured me. He would have continued to torture me.

I feel no guilt over taking his life.

I enter the exit code and collect the three stakes Dimitri had left in the chamber. I check to make sure the hallway is clear before I drag Christian out of the room. I deposit him in a dark corner, removing the stake from his chest.

Think. Where would everyone be? How did I get into the chamber?

Christina had to be near me to help wake me up, but only Christian and I were in the simulation chamber.

I walk past the training room, to the edge of the slope and look down. Every light in the compound is on. I look up, nightfall. No one turned the lights off tonight. The monsters invaded our home, there's no sense in hiding anymore. I work my way down to the living quarters level, keeping to the shadows as much as possible. The dining hall is silent, empty. No plates or food are on the tables. No one has been here since breakfast this morning.

I check the tattoo shop. The chairs are all empty. All but one of the lights is off. I walk back to Tori's old office. The room looks empty, but I sense I'm not alone. I clutch a stake in my hand, silently cursing myself for not grabbing a gun. I inch towards Tori's desk, ready to pounce. A shuffle of noise behind me causes me to spin, throwing a hard kick at eye level for safe measure. Something hits the ground with a loud thud. I'm on top of it, stake raised for a strike when I finally see who it is.

"Caleb?" I say.

His hands shield his face and he's shaking from head to toe. He nods frantically.

I ease back, never loosening my hold on my weapon. "Where is everyone?"

He sits up, wiping his hands down his face. His voice is rickety like a thousand year old bridge about to collapse under the slightest weight. "They forced everyone into the lobby upstairs. They're giving people one choice. Join them or jump."

"Jump?"

He nods, pointing toward the door. My breath is lodged in my throat as I step back into the hall. I move slowly toward the abyss at the center of the compound, stopping when I see something drop through the darkness.

They're making people jump into the chasm from the top floor. Even Eric was never _that_ cruel.

I glance behind me to make sure Caleb is following. I debate briefly, but toss him a stake. He fumbles with it, dropping it on the stone floor. I brace myself as the metal clings and clangs, the sound echoing off the yawning space that stretches up to where our enemies are stationed.

"Sorry," he whispers.

I shake my head. Caleb is too clumsy and awkward for sneaking up on an enemy. I wonder how he was able to help Tris find me in the control room six years ago. His movements would wake the dead.

"Follow me," I say, closing my eyes as another body flies down the hole.

We stay near the walls, weaving in and out of spaces that aren't commonly accessed by anyone who hasn't had to serve a shift of security patrol in the Pit.

Caleb is out of breath, still shaking as we near the top level. I send him a silent message with a look. If he can't back me up he needs to just stay put. He gives me a nod of assurance that he has my back.

I'm not very comforted by the gesture.

I round the final corner, expecting an army of Strigoi. I glance at every possible exit, looking for guards. The room is all but empty.

All of the Dauntless, Erudite, Amity, Candor and Abnegation who have found shelter here are collected in the center of the room. The four remaining Dhampir are chained in a line at the front of the crowd. Dimitri's limp body lies next to them. One Strigoi circles around the back crowd and one paces back and forth slowly at the head. Rose. She's marching from side to side at the front of the room, walking the thin line of the edge of the cliff. Her movements are accentuated by the sway of an oversized leather jacket. Dimitri's duster. She wears it like a prize. It's a warning that the strongest amongst us was no match for her.

I can taste fear in the air. Even the Dhampirs look broken with terror. Janine is shouting something I can't quite hear.

I tell Caleb to wait here as I move closer, focused on hearing this conversation.

"You're better than this Rosemarie," Janine says.

Rose laughs, kicking the side of the coat that swaddles her like a cape as she turns. "That's where you're both right and wrong, mom. I'm _better_ than I was. This is proof of that." She waves her arms around, showcasing the kneeling crowd. "You," she says, pointing to a small woman wearing Amity red. "Choose."

My veins are filled with ice and I fight the urge to race forward and stab her. It's too risky with the amount of innocents so close to the abyss. I've seen how fast these things move. Rose could decide to shove victims in and kill half the people here before I could reach her. Also, I'm not sure how many more Strigoi are in the compound. There have to be more in the shadows. They couldn't have only ventured in here with two others.

Are they truly _that_ conceited?

"I…I…"the girl says. Rose offers her a hand and I can see pure panic on their girl's face as she climbs to her feet. "I have no desire to be a monster."

Serenity is on Rose's face as she shrugs. "So be it." Her hand clamps over of the girl's wrist and tosses her over the side of the landing without a second thought.

My breath stalls in my throat. I have never seen something so evil in all my life.

"Stop this, Rose," Eddie shouts, pulling against the restraints of his chains. "Stop this."

"Make me," she says, bending low enough to meet his eyes. A twisted smile turns her lips. I can't comprehend that level of insanity within her. I've spent the past few months of my life in alternate realities in my own head, and _I_ think she's crazy.

I scoot close to the crowd, staying low. The Strigoi on guard at the back is tall and thin. His eyes, red flames in the center of a pale dark face, scan the crouching bodies once before he searches the exterior doors.

I look back to where I left Caleb and he's gone.

"Damn it," I say under my breath.

I thought that I was quiet, maybe I was and he's just in tune to me enough to hear, but Zeke waves to me. It's not a jump-to-his-feet-and-shout-my-name kind of wave. It's a tilt of his head and shuffle of his feet to grab my attention and let me know he knows I'm here. I nod once, training my eyes on the guard at the back. He's Zeke's height. Even though his skin is paled by death his skin is as black as Zeke's. My friend is broader in the shoulders but for what I have planned this will probably work.

I keep my eyes on Rose, inclining my head to the corner near me. Zeke glances that way and to the guard at the other side of the crowd. He seems to catch on to my plan. He leans over and says something to Shauna. I notice that she's on the floor with her legs out in front of her. Her wheelchair is nowhere in sight.

What the hell happened while I was out?

Rose pulls another candidate from the crowd just as the guard searches the far doors. I wave Zeke over and he moves quickly and silently towards me. I hold my breath until he is safe and the two Strigois' eyes never move our way.

"Nice to see you still breathing," I say.

"Aw, come on, Four," he says, balancing his weight on the balls of his feet as he crouches beside me. "Now is not the time for a reunion."

I mock pout. "No kiss then?"

He cuts his eyes to me with a flat look. "We might discuss angry makeup sex later, but pansy ass smooching is out of the question."

I suppress a laugh, handing him a stake.

"Are we pitching tents?"

"Knock it off with the sex jokes."

"Not a sex joke…I'm serious what's with the pointy metal rods?"

"They're vampires," I say. "The only three ways to kill them are sunlight, to cut off their heads, or jab this through their heart."

He grimaces. "Gross."

Zeke has busted his fair share of opponents' ribs, nose, and any other body part that they foolishly put in front of him, but the thought of driving a stake through a heart is too icky for him?

"Are they the only two here?" I ask.

He shakes his head. "No. There was the dude who took you off with him. And then two more who took Chris, Adrian, and Caleb downstairs while we were herded up here."

"Caleb?"

He nods.

My stomach is suddenly sinking into my toes.

"What's the game plan for getting tall, dark and deadly over here without catching her attention?" he asks.

"Don't know."

"What's the plan if we can get him over here and kill him before she hears it and I step out there pretending to be him?"

I shrug.

"How have you lived so long without just…tripping into a big hole and dying?"

I smile. "Cause I got you to shove me out of the way."

He snorts. It's quiet enough that it doesn't echo, but loud enough that the Strigoi hears it.

"Well that takes care _one _of our issues," he says.

We fall back further into the shadows, using the wall to shield us.

"What was that?" Rose asks.

"Don't know," the Strigoi guard says.

She sighs loud enough that I can all but see her facial expression from just the sound of her voice. "Well go investigate it." She selects another for choosing.

My heart beats faster the closer the guard gets.

"Where are they weakest?" Zeke asks.

They aren't. There's not a single spot on a Strigoi that's soft, not one inch of them that's vulnerable. There's only luck and prayer and skill in the hands of someone fighting them. I don't tell him that. I don't tell him anything at all. Zeke is a skilled fighter. He's smart and quick and one of the only people I'd ever trust in my corner when Armageddon was staring me down.

I see a pair of black shiny shoes a second before I hear the thing snarl. Zeke ducks and rolls away, stabbing at the thing's legs with his stake. I want to tell him don't do that. It's not what the weapon is meant for, but then the thing staggers back, clutching its calves. Through the torn pants I see blood and burns where the stake stuck.

"I'll be damned," I say, turning the Strigoi's focus on me.

I pull out my two remaining stakes, clutching them in my hands like knives. This is the kind of fighting I know. This isn't strategic, proper Dhampir training. This is down and dirty Dauntless attack.

"Up or down?" Zeke says.

"Up," I say, leaping over him as he goes for the Strigoi's feet. The thing is fast, strong, but unprepared for the attack.

I slash its hands with the tips of the stakes, landing a few hard punches to its face. It's not affected by the hits, but I'm not aiming to hurt it. I'm just buying time, getting it in the right place. Zeke plunges his stake through its foot and I shove one straight through its heart. Gravity takes it down and I land on the piece of silver sticking out of its chest.

"Shit," Zeke says, scooting away as blood spurts from the wound.

This is the second time in a handful of minutes that I've pierced a heart. My arms and shirt are covered in Strigoi blood, blood that was probably consumed from the people in this room at one point or another.

Zeke's eyes bounce from the body to me. I see a touch of fear mixed with respect in the depths of his stare.

"Get changed," I say, crawling along the side wall to see what's happening in the lobby. Rose is too focused on her show of power to concern herself with what happened to her guard.

"You okay with playing bad guy while I go find Adrian and Chris?"

He finishes putting on the Strigoi's clothes, scowling at the blood on his shirt. "I'm going to be a bit obvious aren't I?"

"Just stay towards the doors."

His lips press into a hard, thin line. "Maybe we should wait to get them. Maybe we should work on taking her down first."

I peek back at that crowd. There are about fifty people bunched together still. How many will she throw over the ledge before I get back?

"Yeah," I say. "You're right."

"You," Rose says, pointing to a kid I remember from Dauntless training. I don't remember his name, but I remember his fears. He was afraid of becoming Factionless. "Choose."

The boy stumbles to the front. He keeps his head up, not cowering in fear like the Amity girl had. He says something to her and Rose's face lights with glee. "Good boy." In a flash she's on him, her teeth sinking into his throat to drain him dry.

"Rose, no!" Janine screams.

The sight is more jarring than seeing her toss a helpless person into the pit. I don't think. I just react. I'm running across the room, shouting for everyone to run. Zeke is on my heels. I don't know if he'll stick with me or if he'll stop to help Shauna and in that moment I don't really care. I fall to the ground next to Eddie, stabbing the lock on the chain around his wrist with a stake. To my relief it breaks the lock. I toss him the stake and turn to deal with Rose. Her hand is on my shirt, lifting from the ground in the next second. My feet are over the abyss. Her crimson eyes are filled with rage.

I don't know what's happened since I woke up, but I'm not crippled by fear at the distance to the ground. Maybe it's a matter of embracing the fact that death is upon me. I'm not afraid of death, falling to my end doesn't seem so scary anymore.

"You're a bad goddamn penny," she says.

She's breaking rule number one, hesitating, so focused on me she's missing the fact that Eddie has freed the other Dhampirs. He's edging closer and I wish he'd just charge toward her. I don't care if I fall. I don't care if I die. I just need this to end. 

I just need a silver stake jammed so far into this bitch's chest she meets Dimitri on the other side in her next breath.

"Did you know we made it all up?" she says. Her lips are turned into a smile that reminds of a half hidden moon. "It was Christian's idea, pretty good if you ask me. He came up with all of it, convincing you that this is all a dream. He even made you think your dead girlfriend is still alive somewhere."

My chest constricts.

"You liked it so much you brought your friends to me to feed on. You never wanted to wake up. But if you're awake right now that must mean you let her go." She frowns dramatically. "Poor little Tris. You chose all of this over her. Maybe it's a good thing she's dead."

She thinks she's getting under my skin when really she's easing my pain. It's a relief to know that wasn't a real place. I didn't leave Tris. I didn't choose Hell over Heaven. I fought the evil from my mind and did the right thing.

And I'm not about to let her win.

Eddie is a foot away and I'm all out of patience. I have one more stake in my hand. One chance to kill her. I slash forward, nicking her cheek and making her lose her footing. We both go tumbling down into the black hole. Rose is tough, I'll give her that. Gravity is making short work of the drop, wind whooshes so fast around us that I feel my cheeks pulling away from my face, but she's not going down without a fight. She claws at my arms, knees my stomach. We toss and turn and the heavy duster she wears catches the air like an anchor, pulling her down faster than me.

Dimitri isn't gone completely. He's helping me here at the end. He's seeing this through just as I am.

He's freeing his Rose from the prison she doesn't realize she's trapped in.

Somehow I get the stake positioned at her heart. Somehow I block out the image of the ground rapidly approaching. Somehow even though her hands are around my throat and she's choking the life from me I know she's not going to walk away from this either.

Don't think about the fall. The impact will kill you. You'll drive this stake through her heart and the force of the ground stopping your body will put you out of your misery. She'll be with Dimitri.

And I'll be with Tris.

She hits the ground and the silver tips slides in like her skin is made of fine paper. It tears straight through, my hand almost follows it into her.

I have no words for death.

I only think: Tris would be proud of me.

I jumped off the highest fall without any concern for fear.


	35. Chapter 35: Death

**Chapter 35: Death**

Light is shining in my eyes so brightly that I'm blind.

"Tobias? Tobias?"

Sounds are muddled like something soft has been put into my ears and is changing every noise to cotton. My fingertips twitch. My eyes blink.

"Tobias?"

"Tris?"

My vision clears to a stark white room. There are white walls, a white ceiling, and white sheets on the bed that Tris is leaning over the side of. I hear beeping and buzzing all around me. I see shadows under Tris' eyes. She looks exhausted.

And yet she's beaming down at me like she provided the light that just blinded me.

"Are you okay?" she asks.

Am I okay? I don't know how I got here. I don't know where here is. I'm lying on the floor. My head feels like if I move an inch it will split into a million pieces.

"What happened?" I ask.

"You got a little lightheaded when the doctor had to cut me."

My stomach twists inside me. I taste acid at the back of my throat. "Why did the doctor have to cut you?"

Her smile grows impossibly wider. She leans her head against her hands as she stares down at me. "Because she has a head like her father."

That response makes absolutely no sense to me. I open my mouth to ask who, to ask why, to understand how we ended up here. And then a tiny noise robs me of my confusion. It's the softest sigh mixed with a gentle whimper.

Tris glances to a place on the other side of her bed at the sound and I know, I remember. She was in labor. I was standing next to her, holding her hand and at the first sight of blood I was a goner.

I groan. "Please don't tell Zeke about this."

She returns her gaze to me. "Who's Zeke?"

Right. Zeke doesn't exist here. He was in the world she created. I have to remember that.

I pick myself up, using the side of the bed. I plant a hard kiss on my wife's lips. She's so beautiful, so strong. She's never looked more beautiful or strong as she does right now.

"You ready to meet her?" she asks.

I've never been more ready for anything in my life and yet something keeps my eyes trained on her face. Fear. I'm overcome by a wave of terror. I'm by no means a perfect person, but I want to be for that little life over there. I want to be everything she needs and provide her with a perfect life. I know I will fail her. I know no matter how hard I try I won't be able to do everything right.

"Hey," Tris says, knowing my mind better than I do. "We'll figure this out together, right?"

A smile touches my lips and I nod. I sit on the edge of the bed as she reaches for the tiny pink bundle in the bassinet beside her. She's so small. So fragile and tiny. Tris doesn't wait for me to adjust and brace myself. She plops our daughter in my hands with the utmost confidence that I won't drop her.

Mina squirms and wiggles like a cat trying to find the comfortable spot to fall back asleep in. She surprises me by not sleeping. Her little eyes flutter open and seek out my face.

I've never been so amazed by anything in my life.

"She gets that from you," Tris says, resting her head on my shoulder.

Mina fingers close around my thumb. My heart no longer fits in my chest. "She gets what from me?"

"You always watch the world with your eyes wide open. You never miss anything."

Is that true? Is that how I am?

Is this proof that this tiny perfect creature actually has anything of me inside of her?

"I love you," Tris says.

"I love you more," I say. "Forever."

Light fills the room again and the light weight of Mina's body in my hands is gone. The feel of Tris' head on my shoulder is no more. I'm alone and cold and the walls are bleeding black.

The cave.

"Four?" Christina says. She over me, staring into my eyes with a stern expression.

How, why…I died. Just let me be done with this place. Let me be with her.

"He's waking up," she says to someone away from me.

I don't want to wake up. I killed the monster. I spared everyone from her Hell. Just let me rest.

I'm so tired.

"Hey man," Zeke says, kneeling next to Christina.

"Did I die?" I ask. I can't hide the accusation in my voice. I did die. I wanted to die. They brought me back.

Christina flinches, but Zeke has an eerie calm about him. He understands me. He's the one who explains. "Nah, man. You weren't dead when we found you. Just—"

"Broken in a million places," another voice says from my right.

Adrian steps closer as I move my head in his direction. His hands are on his hips. A self-satisfied smile is on his face. "I fixed you."

I wonder if shooting him in between the eyes would seem too unappreciative.

"Did you heal Rose too?" I ask.

His smile falls and his eyes are instantly glassy. "No. Rose…Rose was beyond my ability to help."

I hear regret in his voice that I can feel in my limbs. He's not just talking about her condition from falling to the bottom of the Pit, or the fact that I planted a six-inch piece of metal through her heart. Like he told Dimitri before all of this started, he couldn't bring back Rose. She died the minute she was made a Strigoi.

I stare at the light high above. The sun is up.

"I'm happy you're alive," I say. I don't mean it for any particular person in the room. I'm glad that all of my friends, and even Adrian, survived.

"Thanks," Christina says. "I'm still not exactly sure why or how I am alive."

My eyes cut to the vampire responsible and he finds something interesting to occupy himself with away from us. Zeke slaps my shoulder and goes to help Adrian tend to nothing, giving me and Christina a moment alone.

She's straddling my waist. I don't mind it. She's tiny and light. I almost can imagine she's Tris.

"So," she says, dropping her voice so low I can barely hear her, "can you hear him too?"

I don't know what she means. I hear the water rushing to our left. I hear Zeke telling a dumb joke that he will laugh the hardest at. I hear Dimitri telling me to keep my eyes open. I don't know which he she is referring to, or what I should be hearing.

"Who?"

She glances over her shoulder, letting out a shaky breath. "Adrian. Can you…see and hear him in your head too?"

I stare back up at the light, clearing my mind. I hear nothing. I'm alone in a room and the room is my brain. A million pictures hang on the walls. A thousand thoughts beg for my attention. But Adrian is not in the room with me and his voice is not in my ears.

I shake my head. "Nope."

It takes a moment. I make excuses for the speed of my thoughts. Being almost dead tends to slow one's reaction time. I stare at the light and then my eyes slowly move to her face. She's trapped her bottom lip between her teeth.

"Can you?" I ask.

She nods, eyes darting to Adrian again.

I don't even know what question to ask first.

She supplies answers without any prompting. "I didn't have much time to get used to it," she says. "When we woke up there were two guards on us. I was so scared. I didn't know how it was possible I was still alive. And then…all at once I saw the room from another position. I could see myself lying on the floor. I could hear what Adrian was thinking."

I decide I will never try to explain the universe again. Reality was a ball I could hold and throw and catch. It was defined and ever moving, but stable. Now that ball has shattered into several different balls that are constantly bouncing out of my reach. And just as soon as I catch one, blood-sucking monsters with the ability to control magic show up.

I'm done trying to understand anything.

I don't belong in the world of the living anymore. I've reached the end of my curiosity like a train with no more track and broken wheels. I can't turn around. I can't back up. It's time for me to stop.

Christina stares hard into my eyes. I don't think she can read my mind the way she can Adrian's but I know she sees my thoughts all the same. She bites her lip again, moving off of me without a word.

Everything is a blur of noise and motion after that. Zeke helps me to my feet and to the upper level. I'm sitting in a chair in Tori's tattoo shop while Christina tells me how Caleb helped free them.

"He showed up with one of those fancy stakes you guys used in your secret club."

I don't suffer a moment of regret for thinking the worst of Caleb when he disappeared earlier. He has done nothing to earn my trust. He helped Dimitri torture Adrian by means of mutilating my mind. One good deed won't clean his slate.

"Where is he now?" I ask. My thumb won't stop rubbing the scar on my wrist. Stupidly I feel it's my strongest connection to Tris.

_We made that up._

I know Rose was probably telling the truth. I know the Strigoi bite could reduce me to nothing but impulse and need. I know the world I woke up to with Tris was much like the one I had heard Eddie and Adrian describe over their time here with us. It would be easy for Rose and Christian to build a world of their time.

But there were moments with her that felt too private to be lies, feelings that no one could invent.

"He said there was someone he needed to get," Christina says, offering me a sad smile when I finally look at her.

I wonder if any of this made a difference. Rose didn't lead every Strigoi down here. They were powerful enough to go back in time and kidnap her and the others. Did this one battle win a war, or did it simply make things worse.

I suddenly feel a thousand years old.

I am so tired.

The day moves forward. Time will never stop.

I'm seated at our table in the dining hall eventually. A plate of food is in front of me. Chocolate cake is piled high on a platter to my right. I'm not hungry. Not unless pizza and ice cream are on the menu.

Adrian and Eddie are revisiting the exploits of the day. Zeke is throwing in the occasional joke. Christina blushes whenever Adrian touches her hand, or puts more food on her plate. Their eyes hold conversations that somehow my heart understands.

I ache.

I don't touch my food. I have no words to offer the crowd.

When Caleb returns at the end of the meal I barely have the energy to care what he's about to say.

I just want to see Tris. I just want to hold Mina in my arms.

"Who's that with him?" Christina says, turning to Adrian for guidance.

Beside Caleb stands a tall blonde woman. She looks to be the same age as Rose. That's as far as the comparison to Dimitri's fallen love goes. Where Rose was hard this woman is soft. Where Rose was strong I can see timidity in this new creature.

I also see a hint of fangs as she opens her mouth to speak.

"That's Lissa," Adrian says.

Everyone at our table stiffens. I see Eddie reaching into his pocket for a weapon.

"Hear her out," Caleb says directly to the Guardians seated throughout the room. They all recognize her while the rest of us see only another human.

Unless they can see her fangs as easily as I can.

"Please," Lissa says, holding her hands up in surrender. "I beg your forgiveness. I was used just as much as you all were."

"I highly doubt that," Christina shouts. Adrian looks torn between telling her to keep her mouth shut and feeding her more words to yell.

"She was being controlled too," Caleb says. His eyes move toward our table but when they meet mine he looks away. "She was being controlled with serums."

More voices join Christina and suddenly the speech Caleb wanted Lissa to say is swallowed by accusations and hatred. Even Eddie has a few things to shout at her.

I find my fork interesting, stabbing the piece of potato in the center of my plate. "Let her talk," I say. I don't shout it. I don't even repeat it. I just say three little words that eventually gain everyone's attention.

I look up from my food and freeze as all eyes in the room stare at me.

"Who made the serums?" I ask.

Caleb clears his throat. "I did."

I expect the room to rip open with verbal anger once more. I feel the inside of my body exploding with a thousand words of betrayal. But the room remains silent. Stunned.

I'm not surprised in the least. "You were working with them all along?"

There's this thing about Caleb, this trait that I could never quite put my finger on. I always saw his sister in him but I could never figure out why. His eyes aren't the same color, his hair is darker than hers. He is tall and broad in all the ways that she was tiny. He's easily defined while she broke every rule. And yet, whenever I look at him I see her.

I see it now and I finally know what it is. Caleb makes no apologies for who he is and what he does. He feels guilt. I can see it shining in his eyes right now. But he's not about to apologize for it. Tris was never one to stop being who she was either.

Against everything in me that tells me to think the opposite, I have to respect that about him.

"I was working with Tessa Lanore, a fellow initiate of Erudite, a year ago when she…discovered a …doorway in space and time."

My brain hurts. My body is exhausted. I'm so damn tired of minds trying to explain the world. The world created minds, not the other way around. Can't a little mystery…magic be explanation enough?

"This broke open a whole new way of seeing…everything," he says. His eyes are wide with the kind of wonder a child has at seeing snow fall from the sky for the first time. "Tessa developed a secure way to travel back to a specific point in time, but once that trip was taken a person could only return to their time of origin, or remain in the point they had traveled back to. We tested the theory with several candidates and objects. And I began studying the makeup of the actual door. It's part of what is in the serum that was used on Lissa…on you," he says, pointing to me.

Maybe he explains everything deeper, broader, maybe he has a lot more words and ways to make all of this make sense, but those are the only words I hear. Some nosy Erudite fond a hole in the back side of time and she forced people through it. Then she let that idiot put pieces of that door into my mind.

"What are you saying?" Christina asks and I think maybe he didn't go into any further detail than I recall. 

"I'm saying Tobias, Adrian, and Lissa all have the ability to move through different universes with their minds. That somewhere there's a reality where all of us are in Lissa's world and still being fed upon by monsters. Adrian has a world where he never ended up here. Where he never met you, and Rose and Dimitri never died. And Tobias…"

I wonder if he's seen these worlds. I'm terrified to hear that the world with Tris and Mina isn't real. I'm even more afraid to find out that it does.

"Tobias has created so many splits that I can't keep up with them all."

I suddenly want to build a wall around my mind to keep Caleb out. I also want to beg him for the combination to the right door for me to walk through.

Lissa asserts herself with both hands balled into fists. She is not a person who is comfortable with power. "Rose convinced me I was doing good things. In my mind I was helping all of you. I thought you were all sick. That you all needed to be healed and I thought I was fixing your problems. I know that doesn't make any of it right, but it's what I believed."

"Why the change of heart?" I ask.

"She's been trying to break free for a while," Caleb answers for her. "I've been trying to help, but I had to adjust the serum. I had to…test it."

I see Adrian go still next to Christina. He has had no words for this conversation. I can't say I blame him.

"I have neutralized the remaining Strigoi," Lissa says. "All Dhampirs and Moroi that are left in the city can evacuate back to our time. We will arrive moments after we left and we will not be able to return to this place in time again. We will pose no threat to you anymore. That is my promise to you."

There are more questions than answers with each word she speaks. I realize as people around me grow more invested, stand and converse that I'm pulling further and further away from this reality.

Further and further away from life.

I'm too tired for this.

Lissa and Caleb instruct anyone who wishes to journey to the past to decide now. She will be leaving within the hour and then the machine will be destroyed.

We ran so long in circles and now it feels like the end of the line is abruptly here.

At some point I'm on my feet, moving with the crowd towards the doors at the top of the compound.

Zeke leans on the back of Shauna's chair as he pushes her beside me. "We're gonna head over to our old place," he says. "You know there's always a room for you there."

I nod. He doesn't tell me to stay. He doesn't tell me to go. He doesn't say goodbye or tell me he loves me. But I see it all in his eyes. He slaps his hand to my shoulder, something he's done since the day I met him and then he and Shauna head away from the compound.

People move in a haze of confusion out the exits. It's been so long since we tasted any real freedom. No one knows what to do with it.

My feet follow Christina who is attached to Adrian who is tagging along behind Lissa like she's his last string of sanity.

We reach a warehouse at the end of Navy Pier. I eye Caleb as we all enter the building. He keeps to the back of the crowd. My hands twitch with the need to choke the last breath from his body.

I don't enter the room where people are disappearing into the past. I want to be ignorant of the entire process. I feel cheated, broken and used. People from Dauntless, a handful of Erudite, and nameless Moroi who are rehabilitated Strigoi all step into the room for a second chance. A new world. A new life. A new reality to find their footing in. I hate them. I envy them. I walked through a door like that once. I don't remember it. I only know that I found an exit and returned and I'll feel empty for the rest of my life because of it.

There's only one last door for me to walk through and I fear I'll have to wait a lifetime to find it.

Soon it's just me, Christina and Adrian in the outer room. She glances up at me and I know, I see that she's saying goodbye. She's going to follow Adrian through the door.

"You sure you won't come with us?" Christina asks.

I shake my head. I have no desire to learn yet another reality. I'm not like Tris and Caleb. I'm not curious.

I'm tired.

My body is stiff.

Her hand rests against my cheek and I frown.

"So long, old friend," she says.

"Have fun," I say, nodding toward where Adrian waits.

He's leaning against the wall, sunglasses on as he stares up at the ceiling. If I hadn't seen him drink from people before I never would guess he hid fangs in his mouth. He looks human and flawed, broken and undone. And yet there's this stillness about him. I feel it in the woman in front of me too. Their bond will rebuild them.

I find unspeakable comfort in that.

"Be good to her," I call out and Adrian flinches. He stands at attention and salutes, shoving his sunglasses up.

"Oh don't worry," he says, waving one of his too soft to be man hands. "My lil Yang will keep me on track, I'm sure."

I give Christina a look and she laughs, pointing to her arm. The white and black symbol is freshly painted on her skin. I don't ask, because I don't need to. Unlike our tattoos that will barely have time to fade in intensity before we die, this symbol is fleeting upon her flesh—washed away from sweat and touch and her morning shower. And yet every day he marks her with it anew. Every day the promise that she helps him find the light in his darkness is renewed.

There's something so much more permanent to that simple pledge than any line that's etched into my skin.

Christina leans up on her toes, kissing my cheek.

Then she walks away.

I inch into the room, watching as they pass through the portal and a blinding light fills the space one last time. I stand by as Caleb dismantles the device and sets fire to the equipment.

I wonder how many times I have to see people fight to live free. This won't end every form of oppression that can cripple this world. No matter how many walls we break down someone, something will always find a way to trap us.

But we end what we can and then we keep on going.

Caleb stops me at the door when he's done. I don't want to talk to him. What he did, again, was inexcusable. I don't care if it was logical. I don't care if in the end he helped people. He worked with the enemy, again. He tortured people for his own gain, again. He keeps his eyes on the gray sidewalk as we exit the building. He says nothing, producing a small vial from his pocket and handing it to me.

"What is this?" I ask. "Poison?"

"No. Well, actually I don't know. It might kill you." He glances up long enough for his eyes to meet mine and then he looks away. "I've gone over every test I could and I think that will…make it complete."

I hold the glass tube up to the fading light. It's clear, tinged only with the purplish rays of dusk. "What will it make complete?"

"When your brain goes into a sim…the kind you've been having without the aids of serums," he says, nodding to the vial. "I think that will make it permanent. You can…exist wherever you want to."

I don't know that I fully understand what this means. I don't know if such a thing would mean life or death or…something in between. And I don't know why he would give me such a gift.

"I owe her, okay," he says. His hands are in his pockets and tears are in his eyes. "She died so I could live and I've done nothing to honor that. Look…maybe this is all fake." He waves toward the street, sniffing at the weakness that has begun to escape from his eyes. "Maybe you're in your home, with her, and you need a way back. Maybe this is my way to make things right. Maybe your brain invented me to be the one to help you to…give me a second chance."

I listen to his words, feeling numb. I don't want to be reminded that Tris died for nothing.

I don't say goodbye. I don't say anything at all. I walk away, clutching the glass tube in my hand.

The streets are relatively empty as I move with no aim. I reach a corner that could lead to either Zeke's apartment or the Pit. I pause, waiting for the crossing light.

When the light changes I go forward, toward the Dauntless compound.

It's cold and dark, the air damp in some places as I make my way down the slope to the training level of the Pit.

My bones feel brittle. My muscles are loose and weak.

I walk straight for the simulation chamber. I stare at the four walls for a handful of minutes. I hold the vial in front of me. I've removed the cap and I'm trying to talk myself out of drinking it. I have no promise this won't kill me. I have no idea what it will do at all. I have desperate hope and a lack of concern for longevity.

I bring the glass to my lips and tip the clear liquid into my mouth.

I swallow.

I am surrounded by four walls, a floor, and a ceiling.

Six.

Six sides that close in around me. I'm no longer stifled by this tight space. I am embraced by it. I lie down, close my eyes.

And in the darkness I hear her.

"Hi, Daddy."


	36. The Light (Outtake)

**The Light**

(Adrian and Christina Outtake)

**Adrian POV**

As the great philosopher, Pluto, once said, "Woof."

Okay, the philosopher wasn't named Pluto, it was Plato. Pluto was a dog owned by Mickey Mouse. Plato was this weird guy who got his name from how wide his forehead was, or for as broad in range as his knowledge was. Depends on which Wiki source you want to claim at the bottom of your report. But big foreheads and wagging tails aren't the point. The point is, Plato once said, "We can easily forgive a child who is afraid of the dark; the real tragedy of life is when men are afraid of the light."

I like that.

I say it sometimes when my mind slips off into darkness and all I see is one pinpoint of light.

I don't see the purpose in fearing the light. The light is the only thing that reminds me something other than shadows exists.

I've become preoccupied with thoughts lately. One does that after a few days, weeks, months…however long it was, stuck in a box. I figure pondering the stuff that requires pondering a la one Winnie the Pooh style is better than naming imaginary friends. Which, don't get me wrong, if Christina hadn't found me I was well on my way to do doing. There's still one persistent bunny that likes to hop in from time to time. I wanted to call him Mr. Whiskers but I figured until we got on speaking terms it was presumptuous to give him a name. Maybe he already has a name…

There's a soft knock on the door. I forgot I was in a room with a door.

"Yeah," I holler.

It has to be Eddie. Castle's the only one here who cares to humor me with company. Color me four thousands shades of shocked when Christina slips into the room.

Seriously, I'm so stunned I just sit there and stare at her like an idiot. An idiot who was just having a philosophical debate about the name of an imagery bunny.

"Are you busy?" she asks.

I shrug. "Busy is as busy does." Yeah, reinventing Forrest Gump quotes, that'll win her over.

"You didn't show up for dinner."

Another shrug. "I wasn't hungry." _For food. _I leave the last part off because I don't want to scare her. I don't want to have to drink blood. I can't help it. She knows that. Much to a dismaying exchange a few nights ago she proved that to me, but that doesn't mean I want to bounce around like Count Von Count and name all the veins in her neck that I could tap into.

"Do you…" She shifts in place, hands nervously smoothly down nonexistent wrinkles in her skin-tight shirt. God, she looks good in that shirt. "Do you need…" She inclines her head and the big fat white elephant dripping blood is suddenly giving jazz hands in the middle of the room.

"Sex?" I say, because humor puts everyone at ease all the time, right?

Sure. Joking about getting naked with a girl who looks like she does back flips off moving trains for fun is going to make everyone in the room chill the fuck out. Little Adrian is certainly relaxed as can be.

Her skin is a silky russet color and I'm enchanted by the flush of red that seeps into the corners of her cheeks. She's a sunrise at the end of a dark night. I'd love to paint her. On canvas…and on _her. _She's so hard and soft, smooth and jagged. She's got scars on her hands and tattoos on her arms. I want to memorize every inch of her and draw her from scratch.

She blows a shaky breath between her lips. "Blood," she clarifies and I can't help but smirk.

I used to love making Rose hold a hard line when talking to me. It knocked her on her ass to have to dance around my word play. She did it to fight her attraction to me. Christina does it because she's no nonsense.

Lord help me, I've fallen for a woman who values honesty more than breathing.

"I could use a little bit of both," I say. I hope she thinks I say it because I'm being honest and open with her. I'm not, though. I'm saying it because I'm too horny and hungry to care.

She moves closer to my bed and I resist the urge to snarl. It really has been too long since I had regular feedings. Hers is the only blood I've tasted in this fucked up future. Just a whiff of her scent sends me on edge.

I keep my breaths shallow.

"When was your last relationship?"

I blink. Stare. Blink. I wonder when Mr. Whiskers will be back.

"Adrian?"

"I…uh…" I don't really want to tell you that I haven't been with anyone since Rose. "About five years."

Her eyes expand and I have to nod to reiterate just how hard up I am.

"You?" I ask, because turnabout is fair play.

She levels me with those dark eyes of hers. She has no fear of truth. "I'm a virgin."

Little Adrian is ready to step out and join this conversation. I bend my legs and prop my elbow on my knee. It's not disguising my erection at all, but I figure it's slightly more appropriate than just dropping my pants and offering to change her Facebook status.

Is Facebook even still a thing in this place?

"Does that bother you?" she asks.

Bother me? Why would the thought that I would be the first guy allowed to touch you affect me at all? Nope, I'm all good in knowing I'd be able to show you things you never ever knew existed and blow your mind without being constantly compared to all the guys who came before me.

I laugh at my pun.

She didn't hear it so she's looking at me like I'm nuts.

I am nuts. I can't keep a straight line of thought through one conversation.

"You're too pretty to be a virgin," I say. "Are guys in this century blind?"

She rolls her eyes and I don't miss the way her blush intensifies. "More like every guy I fall for ends up dead before we can do it."

"For death is no more than a turning of us over from time to eternity."

Her eyebrows make a deep v in her forehead.

"William Penn said that."

Again I get the confused as all hell look.

"He was a…dude who said a lot of things. And died long before I was even born so…yeah now that I think about it's irrelevant to you guys."

I run a hand through my hair. I should quiz Tobias more in the next dream walk. "How to talk to a girl from the future." That's going to be the next topic.

"History isn't irrelevant. I like the words that William Penn said."

I get distracted by her smile. God, I want to paint that smile.

"Do you have paint?" I ask.

She shakes her head. "You're exhausting to talk to, do you know that?"

I nod. "Yeah, everyone tells me that." I shove off the bed, slipping on my shoes. "Come on."

"Where are—"

I open the door and wave toward the hallway. "Only one way to find out."

It's dark as shit as we walk through the hall. My eyes are used to no light. I don't know what her excuse for navigating her surroundings so well is. I've come to the conclusion that she's a ninja.

And now I'm picturing her dressed like Trinity in The Matrix.

I veer us right when we reach the floor where everyone eats. I remember seeing the word "Tattoo" on the wall the first night I was brought through here.

"I hate to tell you," she says, "but the tattoo shop is out of business."

"I'm not the tattoo type," I say, relieved to find the door is unlocked.

"Afraid of pain?"

"Nah, petrified of commitment."

She laughs and the sound does funky things to my back. Things I didn't think anyone could do to me anymore.

"Why are we here?"

"Tattoo artists specialize in ink, but," I say, inspecting the containers and jars that I find in every nook and cranny of the room, "they are also usually artists of other mediums."

I open a jar and sniff. Bingo.

"Do the lights work?"

She tests the switches on the wall. "Nope. Zeke cuts the power at dusk."

The dark might make this more fun. I don't need light to see what I'm doing. I'm not entirely sure how much she can see in here. Dhampirs would have a little trouble with no light, but humans are a total mystery to me.

"Can you see anything?"

"No. Why? Are you naked?"

She's teasing me. I groan. "You don't play fair."

There's that laugh again. I wonder if she sings. She has a voice like an angel.

She is an angel.

"What are you doing?"

"Grab a seat," I say. I locate a jar of black and a jar of white paint. I don't bother looking for brushes. I was a big fan of finger painting in kindergarten and I've been meaning to get back to basics.

"I don't suppose you're familiar with ancient Chinese philosophy, huh?" I ask.

There's that Adrian is smoking the good stuff look. "Let's pretend I'm not."

Her sarcasm tickles me. I ease her back against the chair, looking her up and down for the perfect spot to do this. My eyes are drawn to her abdomen. Her shirt pulled up just a little when she laid back and the sweetest spot of skin is peeking out at me.

"Can I touch you?" I ask, moving the edge of her shirt higher before she can respond.

She inhales sharply. Every inch of me tightens up at the sound. Little Adrian is doing handstands in my lap.

Five years of celibacy is a long damn time.

"Um…sure," she says.

That one word does something to me. I'm transported. The room goes darker as my eyes see past the realm of solid things. Her aura sparkles like a goddamn firecracker. She's the Fourth of July and Christmas lights and every candle ever lit in the name of a saint.

"You're gorgeous," I say. I don't say it to get in her pants. I don't even say it because it's true, and trust me it's true. I just don't think she hears it enough. I don't think anyone in this place stops to really look at her. Their eyes recognize her but nobody _sees_ her.

Their loss. My eyes feel lonely if I spend more than a few hours without her in them.

I dip my pointer finger in the black paint. "So," I say, clearing my throat when the word gets stuck. "Ancient Chinese philosophers believed that for every good there is a bad. For every rise there is a fall. And for every light—"

"There is a dark?" Her aura turns a shade of light blue with a wave of uncertainty. She's guessing and worried she's wrong, but she's right.

I'm just happy she's willing to play along. I touch my paint covered finger to her stomach, drawing a lazy outline of the quotation mark looking shape. I pull the paint down from the line to fill in the space, leaving one small spot at the top clear.

The light blazing around her flashes yellow, then orange. She's getting excited by this.

Next I dip my pinky into the white paint. "Balance is the way of nature. Harmony is the goal of all living things." I mirror my work with the black paint and create a white inverted quotation mark pressed against the black. When joined together they form a complete circle. I leave one spot free of color in the top of the white.

"So, there can't be any dreams without nightmares?"

I dip my finger back into the black and drop a dot of black in the open space within the white. "Yes, and there can be no life without death." I do the same with my pinky and one drop of white within the black.

"Why are you vandalizing my stomach?"

"I want you to be my light," I say. I frown. "No…what I mean is you _are_ my light and I just wanted you to know."

The spirit coursing through me is making everything feel heavy. I can barely hold my head up. The walls are leaning on top of me. I can't shut it off, though. Her aura melts into a fiery shade of red that hypnotizes me. It's like she's got a cloud of passion and lust and blood swirling around her.

I lick my lips.

"I don't think you're the darkness, Adrian."

She means it. God, the woman is Pinocchio and George Washington and Jim Carrey all rolled into one. She can't tell a lie to save her life. To save my life.

She's excited. I can smell it. I can_ taste_ it on the air. Her heart is speeding up and her blood is racing through her veins, racing to all the special places that I want to touch.

"I should probably go," I say. My voice doesn't sound right. I'm not right. I'm buzzed on just the thought of drinking her. I'm so worked up I'm liable to get off on just the bite alone.

She doesn't need to see that. She thinks I'm not dark. Seeing my monster will lay that lie to rest.

"No," she says. Her hands are on my face. How can anyone feel this good? Only her palms are touching my cheeks and yet I feel like she's stroking every inch of me.

"You need to feed."

I shake my head, but my hands grab her shoulders against my will. I clench my jaw. I'll give myself TMJ before I'll open my mouth over her neck again.

"Go away," I say between my teeth.

She shakes her head. "How many times do I have to tell you that I'm okay with you doing it?"

"I can't," I start to say and she presses a finger to my lips.

I'm drowning in her essence and her scent. Her patience makes me feel small. And there's this look in her eyes that makes me feel sky-fucking-high.

"Can I kiss you?"

I don't know what to say. I'm dreaming. I finally figured out where they store the booze in this place and I got so shitfaced that I'm imaging drawing pictures on her stomach. Out of the corner of my eye I see a fuzzy little bunny bounce off the end of the tattoo chair.

So long Mr. Whiskers.

"Adrian," she says, pulling my focus back to her. She doesn't ask again. Just leans forward and plants a hard kiss on my lips.

I'm out of control. Crazy from spirit, desperate from hunger, and I'm so damn in love with her it hurts. I kiss her back, but I'm not gentle or sweet about it. I'll make sure the next time I kiss her I do it softly. I'll spend the next thousand nights of our lives pressing my lips delicately to every inch of her body.

But not tonight.

Tonight I'm devouring her, starting with her mouth. I'm careful to keep my fangs away from her tender skin. It's not that I haven't decided I'm going to drink from her, I will, I just want to tease her first. I want this chaotic rush that I feel to echo in her. Once I bite her we'll both be too far gone to enjoy it.

Her fingers tangle in my hair while mine rip her shirt in two.

She breaks the kiss with a gasp. "Hey. I like this shirt."

I don't have the ability to talk. A growl is rumbling in my chest as I stare at her. Her throat's right there. So smooth, so soft, so easy to pierce. She'll be delicious, she has been every time I've tasted her.

My hand slides along her collarbone, curving around her neck.

She steps back and I let my hand drop. I won't attack her. I won't. I can't. I'll go lock myself in a hole before I take anything from her against her will.

I'm just about to do that, run out of here and lick my wounds, when she reaches for her belt. She stares at me with desire in her eyes and she unzips her pants and lets them fall to the floor. My pants feel so tight I might just break through the material like the Incredible Hulk.

Although his pants always stayed intact.

I'm distracted by sideways thoughts and miss her removing her shirt. I don't realize she's naked until she helping me remove my clothes and my hands become preoccupied with touching her. Her skin blends into the shadows but I see her as clear as day. My fingertips brush the smeared design I drew on her stomach and then dip lower. She moans, leaning back in my embrace as I slip my finger into her warmth.

"You sure about this?" I ask. I'm on the ledge. One more second I'm going to be tumbling over and I won't be able to stop myself. But if she tells me to stop, I'll stop.

She shoves me toward the nearest chair and I plop down into a sit. She climbs up, straddling my lap and positioning herself over me.

Fuck, she's fearless. Confident. Beautiful.

It's been so long. Too long.

My hands help guide her down. I suck in a breath as she eases over me. She's wet and warm and tight, and I can't remember the last time anything felt this good. I give her a moment to get comfortable. My toes are curling and my eyes are rolling back in my head.

"So," I say, cause talking seems like such a great idea at this point. "I don't know how much you know about Moroi anatomy."

Her face is pressed against the side of my neck and I feel her smile. "Let's pretend it's not much."

A shaky laugh jumps out of my mouth. "Yeah…well you know about our bite. How uh—"

"Good it feels," she whispers, pressing her lips to the shell of my ear.

I shiver. "Yeah. Well uh…it's uh…it's heightened when …uh…"

She leans back, looking me in the eye. I'm a sweaty, panting mess of raw masculinity. At least I hope I am. Mostly I'm sure I look like a pale out of breath mess of a mess.

She spreads her legs wider, taking me as far as she can and leans her head to the left. Her hands force my face forward until my tongue tastes the salt of her skin. She moves her hips ever so slightly and pleasure shoots up my spine. My teeth sink into her neck. Blood rushes into my mouth.

And I lose my goddamn mind.

I snarl holding her against me tightly as I feed. The entire world is red with lust and she tastes better than anything else and I can't stop. She cries out, rolling her hips forward and I'm spinning us around, throwing her on the seat under me as my body takes on a mind of its own. My hips thrust hard and fast and deep as I continue to drink. My senses are heightened, every nerve is electric as we move together.

It doesn't take long. It doesn't need to.

Her nails bite into my back as I dislodge my fangs from her throat. I run my tongue along the wound, healing the cuts and I keep up the quick, sharp pace with my hips. She writhing, arching her back, making noises I wish I could record and play on repeat. It's not pretty, it's not romantic. It's primal and passionate and when her muscles clench around me I'm gone. I lock up, coming so hard I see stars.

Afterwards, our labored breaths are softened by the darkness in the shop. I'm collapsed on top of her and I know I should move but everything below my neck feels like Jell-O.

"Wow," she says. Her voice sounds like a satisfied purr.

I smile, planting a kiss to the side of her neck. "Not a virgin anymore."

She nuzzles my the top of my head. "Nothing dark about you. You're too shiny to be dark."

Shiny? I laugh until my sides hurt and my head is so light I feel as high as she must. My eyes relax and I see her aura. Talk about shiny. She puts the sun to shame.

I did that.

I made her that happy.

I shift us around so I'm on the bottom and she's snuggled on top of me. I keep my arms around her. I'm not entirely sure what just happened.

But I think I finally found the rise to my fall.

I found my light.

And I'm not planning on ever fearing her.


End file.
